Mystery:

“The universal consciousness, intelligence, psyche, or vast imagination that animates the cosmos and everything in it, including us, and in which the psyche of each person participates. Common synonyms include Spirit, God, and the nondual. When consciously attuned to Mystery, we experience a profound connectedness with all things — the “oneness” of Mystery.”

-Animas Valley Institute

‍

‍

You’re About To Enter A Portal The Likes Of Which I Have Never Before Offered.

And one I may not offer again.

This is an awkward, rambling place.

Of fecundity and fracture.

Of mayhem and madness and soul.

A primal wilderness where all the “markers” you have bet, held, and become beholden to in this lifetime {and beyond} will be called upon.

Not to require of you.

No.

But to remake you.

To rebirth you in the laying down of your armor…

To remember you within the primordial purging of who you have tried to force yourself into becoming.

You’ve heard the sacred howling reverb throughout your marrow and your bones.

You’ve scented the peat tracking generations {and revolutions} across your skin.

And you’ve felt the calling of hallowed land whispering your name in the night.

All as you’ve been beckoned down down down into the truth of the madness of the knowing of the you.

The truth behind which nothing {and no one} can hide.

No falsified ideations of who you should BE in order TO… {insert all constructs and encodings here}.

No.

This is where everything you have hidden behind becomes fertile ground upon which you reform…

And come undone.

This is the moment {yes THAT moment} when you remember who the fuck you are…

And lay yourself bare upon the altar of your God, your art, and your soul.

Ah, and we should make mention that…

You won’t be here again.

At this particular crossroads.

At this particular waypoint.

And you know this {man}.

Because, here, now, you are bearing witness to the forgotten pounding of ancestral rhythms and drums.

Here, now, you are trembling at the quickening of life being poured… truly, madly, deeply… into every last crevice of how you’ve allowed yourself to show up in this world.

And {of course of course} how you have NOT.

You feel your breath catch when you pause long enough to actually think about it.

To experience yourself IN it.

‍

‍

And yet… you’re still in the QUESTIONING of it.

You lament and wring your hands and walk riotous and treacherous ruts into the earth in your uncertainty around the REALITY of it.

Asking if you’re ready.

Asking if you can handle it.

Asking if your body can hold it.

You wonder if the WONDERMENT of all that you have always been… coming home to roost and to root… is even going to be enough.

Or, wait, maybe it will be TOO much.

Gahhhhhh!

And how will you know?

When the time is right?

When the action is warranted?

When the magic has percolated and fermented just long enough {but not too long} and is at its highest potency to be unleashed into your business and relationships and creative and world?

How will you know when it’s time to strike…

And to also simultaneously surrender into your everything?

‍

‍

You’re not alone, though.

You are not now, nor have you ever been, alone.

No matter how much the demons and traumas and oppressive malaise of a thousand lifetimes try to get you to believe it.

No matter how often your ACTIONS have seemed to only exacerbate and reinforce your BELIEVING of it.

No.

You are not alone.

Because you are God born.

You are magic and majesty.

You are Infinity experiencing itself on a finite journeying.

But you, YOU, are not now… and have never BEEN… anything so exhaustible as a temporal manifestation of life.

No.

Because you ARE life.

You are life being evoked in flesh.

You are formlessness traversing and playing in form.

And you belong.

You. BELONG.

And in this moment…

In this kairotic, orgasmic, fantastical MOMENT…

You are being offered parlay.

By soul. For soul. Of soul. And AS soul.

You are being offered release and relief.

From the mundane banality and trappings of a life less lived.

From the mental masturbatory ramifications of an existence that would {and could} only end with your music dying inside of you.

Because this?

This is where you take it all {you take it ALL} and shapeshift it into the exquisite + devotional ecstasy of who you were always {ALWAYS} going to become.

But will it make me all the monies/get me the conscious partnership/make me infinitely multiorgasmic/land me the top shelf book deal/get me booked on Oprah… by next week?

Hmmmm… Maybe.

But is that really the question you want to ask?

Or… rather…

Is that really the question that is being asked OF you?

And we don’t mean “asked of you” in any way that causes you to become beholden to some abhorrent and insatiable beast of your own making.

Nah.

This right here?

Is the primordial beseeching that rips through you like a lightning storm.

Scorching any and all identities and permeations of an almost, someday, coulda woulda shoulda, dried-up-pussy version of you.

This is the rumble {young goddess, rumble} that sex magicks itself back into form, as it rises out of the quagmiric calcifications of every construct you have ever held that had you believing THEY were actually YOU.

And this is where you finally {FINALLY} let die to soul what is ready to die.to.soul.

Not much else to say other than:

If this is for you…

Let this shit be 100%, all in, FOR you.

Let’s shall, Wild One.

Let’s shall.

This Is Only For The Ones Who Are Called…

To the edge.

To the unknown.

To the pussy drippin’ orgasmic reality of life being fully evoked and expressed and remembered as YOU.

One thing tho’…

You have to be willing to enter the underworld of shadow and psyche and soul in the now.

You must be able to hear the howling of the madness rebirthing itself in your marrow and bones.

And, when it’s all said and done, you have to be ready to become someone you may not yet be totally sure of…

Someone you can’t quite control {or contain}…

Someone who you can, however, scent and track and taste in the back of your throat whenever you actually allow yourself to be in the unabated DESIRING of yourself.

‍

‍

To put it another way {and really, the only way}:

You gotta be ready to be ALL of you.

Because this is the end.

And, also…

This is your beginning.

We will "meet" over the course of 3 days.

You will bare yourself TO yourself, THROUGH yourself, FOR yourself.

We will excavate the madness, mayhem, and soul of the ENTIRE damn thing.

‍

Day 1: Enter The Erotica

We open the medicine with deep excavation of the primal and the damned… An entryway through the back door of sex and identity where you become reacquainted with all the forgotten, lost, and disowned aspects of who you KNOW you came here to be.

Ah… and where you slip into the sensual seduction of nuance and distillation of all that you could’ve been… all that you’ve held onto… everything {and everyone} you’ve made your “Precious”. 💍

So you can come home to the raw, bloody, gorgeous manifestation of what you KNOW you are.

‍

Day 2: Underneath The Quantum Moon

Here is where you rewrite {literally} the story of You. Who you’ve been. Who you are in this moment. Who you choose to embody and become in the instantaneous now.

This is an exploration of quantum collapse and liminal erotica… A waypoint of edge walking and free falling back down into soul.

A portal where you not only say yes… you become the embodied evocation of that yes.

I will guide you through this experience, with bespoke writing prompts, inquiries, and crossroads that will help you wring out the totality of the magic of the Wilds of the you. {My writing prompts are pretty fucking legendary… and identity/soul-shaking, just an FYI.}

‍

Day 3: Drippin’ Over The Bones

This is my first ever offered Embodied Erotica… a holy-fuck-me short story experience that will {re}wild and remake you in the image of infinite magic and cosmic consciousness being made manifest as you.

You will move into, as, and through this short story in movement, breath, and ceremonial form. A potent interweaving of realm traversing, multimedia storytelling, and waking up to the uninhibited certainty of every last evocative cell of who the fuck you are.

➳ Primal {Pre}Calibration Medicine: An Evocation Of The Edge