The Ghosts of Lovers Past

Roses via ShutterstockYour Yoni deserves pleasure and love in the form of plentiful, delicious sex.

(pussy or cunt or vulva – have you a name you love? I hope so)

Sometimes we try people and experiences on and they just don’t quite fit.

Recently a client came to me with a wish to clear her womb of the energy of past lovers. She didn’t have any traumatic instances per se, but a lingering and nagging sense that there was an imprint left behind from one particular lover and she had no use for that!

Many of us girls and women have been conditioned from a young age to view sex and our bodies as something sinful and shameful. These feelings are often lurking deep in our subconscious so that they operate at levels affecting our lives and we aren’t even aware of them.

I’ve also come across some spiritual teachings which assert that the energies of our sexual partners linger for 7 years post-encounter. For some of us that is a lot of people to be carrying around and connected to!

What is a woman to do?

While I think it’s vital that we are discerning about who we let into our bodies and the reasons why, I’m not into shaming and shunning sex. I would argue that more sex not less (of a quality kind, a whole other post in the works!) is what is needed for our world and our relationships.

And it’s not a one-size fits all solution. For some of us who have grown up so conditioned to be shamed and repressed around our sexuality, it may be that you need to fuck around (consciously and conscientiously!) the most.

But none of us need to carry around the ghosts of lovers past. And it warrants being said, none of us need nor deserve to feel punished for any choices.

The Womb Blessing and Healing is one such means of clearing out the energetic muck and guck of old lovers. And what better time than fall to be clearing out and releasing this energy as the trees shed their leaves and the earth begins an inward re-focus…

Here are some words from my aforementioned client:

“I surprised myself on this night by going home with a man I had just met. Trust me when I say I NEVER do that kind of thing. But on this night, I don’t know, I just decided to say yes. There were things about him I liked and I guess I wanted to just ‘try on’ a one-night stand.

It was a fun night, not quite what I expected. As I was coming home though, I was aware of this mix of energy that had just happened and that I wasn’t into seeing him again and also I didn’t want him hanging out in my body or psychic space or anything.

Your protocol and the womb healing I got were just the thing I needed to feel really clear and light and free!”

For a womb healing & blessing, contact me for the next available opportunities. I offer this work around the days of the full moon. It can be done in person (Toronto at the moment) or remotely.

Alternatively, stay tuned for a follow-up post on some things you can do on your own at home to clear the energies of these unwanted ghosts.

Much love,

Lana


Love Yourself

Vintage Valentine Cards

Vintage Valentine Cards

My love of Valentine’s Day peaked somewhere around the time of grade 2 or 3. It was such a fun arts and crafts occasion to create a little mailbox for my desk, to spend the time choosing out and writing the cards for my friends then to deliver and read all the ones I received. My 8 year old self loved the silly puns and the colourful cards.

I don’t know where my enthusiasm and interest died for it. I guess as we grew older our curriculum didn’t make space anymore for the ‘frivolous’ and by the time high school rolled around V-Day had definitely become something else. Instead of love shared between friends it became the day to flaunt and distinguish between the haves and the have-nots in the romance department.

I see this sentiment still operates for a lot of people beyond these teen years as though it is a flaw and a failing to be single particularly on this day.

As though a gesture one day out of the year will prove something about someone’s devotion, love, and ultimately worth.

Please understand me: there is nothing wrong with celebrating your love on this day. We can also celebrate and exalt love with reverence and exuberance any and every day of the year.  And the best place, seriously, the BEST place to start is with the expression of love of and within your own self.

The extent to which we love and honour ourselves is the extent to which we can love and honour another person. It’s a full-time gig and for many of us there is a lot to unlearn, to heal, to acknowledge, and integrate.

It’s not a rational, conceptual activity but there are many, many ways…and from my experience is what they have in common is being PRESENT and EMBODIED.

That’s what this work is all about…

Big, loud love.


I am beautiful when I sing

Its-her-soul-singing-by-sonja-ljubicic

‘It’s her soul singing’ by Sonja Ljubicic

I walk along the seaside on a beautiful fall day. It feels great to be out by the water and in the bright sun but I’m also not quite feeling full-on sparkly. Nothing really wrong but a few too many little things nagging at me.

But I’m walking, still admiring and appreciating all the blessings being bestowed on me on this day.

Then I catch a glimpse of my reflection. Full body. And what my attention is drawn to is the shape and size of my thighs in the tights I’m wearing.

Oh no.

This image reflected back to me is not at all what I had in my mind. I didn’t look like this before I left the house when I did a final check, did I? What happened in the meantime? How did my thighs now end up looking so chunky and stocky? And God, my skirt is too short.

Not on solid footing as it was, my mood dives despite my ‘knowing’ better.

Look, I have tools and I use them. Probably it is over the next hour that I deal with this. Because though my thighs are the catalyst, it’s not about my thighs. It just opens the floodgates to all of this other stuff. Questions about my purpose, judgment about not knowing, about not being further ahead than I am (whatever that means), and so on.

I have so many tools so I begin to pull them out one at a time. I sit with my feelings. I notice what’s whirling around in my body. I breathe. I appreciate my surroundings. I appreciate things about myself. I let the warm sun bathe me. I take my time. I allow myself to be moved.

And I continue on my path. I acknowledge. I accept. I forgive. I breathe some more. And I allow myself to be engulfed in the beauty of my surroundings. Why would I lose that because of a reflection of my body. My body is what she is and she is magnificent in fact. All of these strong, working parts.

I am nourished by the waves and the sun and the trees and warmth.

I release and surrender and just enjoy myself there, where I am

I walk into the park washroom to pee. As I’m washing my hands I look up at my face’s reflection in the mirror and gasp. Because again the mind’s image and the one now being presented to me don’t match. Only this time I had been convinced I was unattractive and now the image being reflected to me was so beautiful – tanned, glowing, framed by sweet soft curls.

What the fuck, right?

But what’s very apparently so in that moment is already ‘known’ but now cemented a bit more in my being and it is:

The work we do inside shows will bloom externally. There need to be no struggle about it actually. We need to find the path to love ourselves, freely, deeply and unconditionally. That sweetness shines forth.

Outside external images are so utterly illusory. There is no solid happiness to be found looking there.

Affirm. Forget. Repeat.
And, of course…
Love Love Love


On Pussy, On Naming

Art is vagina liz darling from Project HOPE Art

Art is vagina liz darling from Project HOPE Art

I read an article today that censored the word PUSSY.

It was written by Regena Thomashauer who just weeks ago published a book titled ‘PUSSY: A Reclamation.’ What timing!

If only we could use the word and…
feel it come out of our mouths.
** PUSSY **

It’s been censored a lot these days as mainstream news has no choice but to cover whathisface’s depravity.

Regena says that PUSSY is arguably the most powerful pejorative word in the english language. I would suggest that it is actually ** CUNT **

but you will notice what the two have in common.

Our society refuses, chokes on, is offended by our intimate female parts. We won’t even name them!! And this is a problem. Regena writes of this eloquently and I will quote her here yes, (from PUSSY):

“We can learn just as much about a culture from what it’s missing as from what it embraces.

One of the greatest pieces of unconscious conditioning we have in our Western culture is that we do not teach our children the name of the source of our feminine power. Ask my students at the School of Womanly Arts what they were taught to call their genitals as a child, and you’ll get a parade of colloquialisms: Wickie, Cuckoo, Privates, Down There, Pooter, Pee Wee, the Fine China, Name and Address, Venus, Noonie, Miss Kitty, Purse….the list goes on. Those who were taught a more direct word were often taught to call it “vagina,” a clinical term that is also physiologically incorrect.

But what’s worse, the majority of women were taught to call it nothing at all.

When we have no common language to describe that which is most essentially feminine about us, we have no way to locate and own our power as women. As my dad used to read to us on Friday nights, “In the beginning was the Word.” When there is no word, there is no beginning. How would you talk about an interconnected global computer network providing information and communication facilities via standard technological protocols if you did not have the word *internet*? Yet our culture gives us no way to talk about the place where our power – and, in fact, all of life – comes from.

It’s this very feminine power that is missing from all the success stories we hear. It’s what leaves Sheryl Sandberg, one of the most productive women in America, revealing in a New Yorker profile that she’s felt like a fraud all of her life. It’s what has fashion designer Diane von Furstenberg admit on CBS This Morning that she wakes up every day feeling like a loser. It’s what has Gayle King, who was interviewing von Furstenberg, reply that she wakes up every morning feeling fat.

It’s what has Shonda Rhimes observe in her book, ‘Year of Yes,’ that she and every other woman she knows push away compliments and are unable to receive appreciation and
approval.

It’s what has so many female grad students settling for assistant teaching, while their male counterparts head their own classrooms.

It’s what has men initiate salary negotiations four times more often than women do. It’s why when women *do* negotiate, they ask for 30 percent less than men.”

~ ~

It’s provocative but it makes sense. We can’t (which really just means we won’t) name PUSSY or CUNT

AND

we’re indoctrinated to feel so very wrong and inferior about Her and

her smells
her hair
her blood
her lips
her juices
her existence.

So, as far as I’m concerned: Fuck that.

I’m over it. This matters.
And I *dare* you to get over it too.

Share This.
Name Her.
Read PUSSY
Read CUNT (a great book as well)
Read VAGINA (another great book as well)

Own Your CUNT.
Love Her.
Honour Her.

For fun, I offer this terrific clip from Samantha Bee (with a content warning as she discusses assault and pussy grabbing):  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gk72KC4jWc

And more, MUCH MORE
coming….

Art is vagina liz darling from Project HOPE Art


A Gratitude Ritual

'Giving Thanks' Frank Polson

‘Giving Thanks’ Frank Polson

In the year I did my first Reiki training, I began a routine of gifting this healing energy to myself as I lay in bed, drifting into sleep.

Somewhere in the practice of laying my hands on my body with this loving intention of providing myself with Reiki energy, my gratitude practice was born. My thoughts would drift to the day’s events and I naturally found myself pausing to express and feel gratitude for them deeply in my body because it felt joyful and blissful to do this.

Some days were filled with so many wonderful things and it was easy to summon so much to be thankful for. Other days weren’t so spectacular and yet, it was still easy. I start there where I am. Because I am grateful every night for having a warm bed to sleep in. I’m grateful for the body that allows me the experience of this life. I am grateful for this breath.

And what happens always is that one grateful expression will lead me to the remembrance of another. And then another. And another.

Most nights, I am filled with tremendous awe and humility at how beautiful life is, how wonderful people are, how many gifts are so freely and generously given. (Of course, this isn’t to suggest that there aren’t difficult people and painful moments in my life; it just isn’t where I put my attention especially before sleep.)

My nightly ritual has become this. I no longer intentionally giving myself Reiki though it’s all kind of become the same thing. I place one hand on my belly above womb (about 3 inches below belly betton) and one on my heart centre. For me, this creates an important circuit and connection between hands, breath, body, and awareness. A way for the energy to flow through me.

Continuously connecting with the experience and energy of gratitude in my body allows me to find my way back to it quickly and easily when things go awry and when it would otherwise be hard to come to be in a thankful state. Like any place I’ve often travelled to, I know the terrain and how to find it without thinking about it, without worrying and without a map.

So as I run through my day and feel the deep gratitude for the special moments throughout, I float off to sleep feeling happy, relaxed and as a result, I sleep soundly and restfully. I never have a nightmare. I wake up in the morning in a grateful, excited and humble place. Ready to start and experience another miraculous day.

Do you have a gratitude practice? What is it?

What are you grateful for?

Or perhaps you are looking to experience reiki, contact me for an in-person or remote session.

Art is “Giving Thanks” by Frank Polson