Tantric Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was a middle aged single mother in the winter in the midst of a worldwide pandemic. She had studied tantric yoga for almost twenty years and avoided countless opportunities from all different angles to display what she knows on a large scale. She was a healer, a somatic body worker and professional artist….generating her income with the brightest height of her talents; secretly collecting deeper understanding while eschewing the notion that she could be identified as some kind of sacred sex worker. Finally, in a sexless, touchless, fearful turmoil of a world, she said “fuck it” and decided to delve headlong into everything tantra–opening fully to the practice and to herself as a teacher of this art.

About two weeks later, her favorite teacher from when she was in her mid twenties, connected with her via Linked in. He was the teacher that filled the classes until people were pouring out into the hallways–squirreling their feet around their heads with eyes rolling to the back of their many lives in a collective sigh of common bliss at being alive. Everyone became orchids in the cupboards that breathed vortex perfume onto themselves in practice–existing everywhere and nowhere as one individual everything. He was the teacher who would sometimes take unnecessary opportunities to walk with her and talk about normal things as though the astronomical parts didn’t exist and the friend with great credibility whom she sometimes reached out to remind her that things would get better. He was married….she was one of many students.. He was ostracized from the yoga community by jealous studio owners and she had gotten knocked up by a psycho……they lost their practice…they hadn’t spoken for seven years……

She responded to him with an artsy yoga video she had made–shyly displaying her editing skills and the inherent athletic prowess of her out of shape 41 year old yoga body. The yoga woke up something deep inside of him–her expression of union sparked his latent yoga that had been shoved down beneath years of parenting, wealth building and unhappy marriage. He told her that he had always been in love with her, that he had made his yoga classes specifically for her and had felt her every move in practice. He still remembered the specific alignment and construct of every part of her body and energy-reflecting on this deep knowledge of her like second nature. She then noticed that it wasn’t just one or two small conversations throughout the years that they had going, they had actually written books back and forth to each other–she coming to him to talk about almost every major life event and him lightheartedly supporting her through the most painful things she had endured…a running conversation for nearly twenty years that happened so gently they didn’t realize that it was a major theme in their lives.

They began to talk often and extensively for the next few weeks during which she made a vow to water fast for the whole of the crucial presidential election–feeling a personal responsibility to do everything she could to move Trump out of office–and it went for five days during which she shifted dimensions as she overhauled her physical connection with her body. They began to make love in the space between them across thousands of miles–both feeling clearly as he entered her body, healing and adjusting her vessel with the sacred energetic connection they had been establishing for decades; as she brought his energy to the heights of her ethereal access to meet the goddess that moves into this plane through her.

After a couple of weeks he came to Colorado to see her in person for the first time since a coffee eight years ago. They spent one night together in a Marriott in a small mountain town. They were awkward, older, sick and shy–laden with lives and dark emotions piled on by years of hardship and energy devoted to children and abusive mates. Basking in what they had been and grappling with what they had become, they peeled away the layers of Maya covering the perfect embodiment of source they had both devoted their lives to harnessing.

After a night of fumbling blindly together towards the ecstasy they both knew was possible, they focused on a point right below his belly button that had hurt since he had painfully left his teaching practice ten years prior. She dug her fingers in, then her elbow–putting her full weight on it as he screamed at her that she wasn’t strong enough, that she couldn’t do it. A door opened up in the floor beneath him and the thing in his second chakra–whatever it was–left his body and got burned up in the depths of hell. He grabbed her and inserted himself into her and called his goddess into her to take over her body. The sky opened up above her head–instead of the point of light she was accustomed to, a whole open field of light opened up and poured into her body. Eyes rolling into her head and speaking in tongues, this celestial being entered her body and communed with his whole powerful self–free of the succubus block that had halted his trajectory and stopped his offering of the ancient knowledge that was meant to pour through him. He took from her the tendency to hide massive potential that he had given to her all those years ago and renamed her Tara…White Tara……

They parted ways soon after that– both daunted, but promising to give birth to something 9.5 months into the future. He went home to his crumbling marriage and she to her crazy country kid life. They barely spoke for months afterwards.

He would call her and express the various stages of trying to save his marriage, leave his marriage, recover his inner stability, recover his autonomy, understand his extreme aversion to whatever version of commitment his marriage had become. She tried to give him a sense of freedom from need or attachment from her or anyone. She tried to facilitate a perceived desire to express sexual freedom after 20 years of repression and control. She tried to protect her blown wide open heart by coming across as someone who didn’t care as much as she did.

Meanwhile their bodies and lives were moving closer to their goddess and god-like selves. She uprooted her whole life and moved with her child to an iridescent black sand beach town in El Salvador. She read 4 Hour Work Week from an actual hammock from her beach view hostel and made more money than she ever had in the stock market while her son attended a bi-lingual Waldorf school and learned to surf. After living in his garage trying to give his wife their whole house, he decided to finally go through with a separation and divorce–taking over his house and remodeling every inch of it by hand. He turned it into the most perfect version of itself as he also remodeled his body and delved deeply back into his yoga, preparing it to be delivered to the world in partnership with her.

They barely spoke. They both thought the other had lost interest. They both feared that they cared more than the other so they both pretended that they cared less. They would have moments of excited connection and planning and then fearful lack of follow-up, giving up and reigniting hope and giving up again–burned by the glorious monstrosity of what they hoped was coming. They overhauled their lives and worked on themselves, their understanding of love and partnership, their ability to participate in a complete union that is also sovereign and free, their embodiment of unconditional love. They incubated their practice, their teaching offering, this new paradigm that wants to pour into the world through the space between them.

Nine and a half months later–in the birth giving time–his house is finishing, his body is healthy and beautiful. She is embodying and writing books about the ultimate MILF Goddess lifestyle that she shares with women–allowing the divine masculine to move through them and support them into enlightenment. Both preparing to have a major effect in this collective paradigm shift and totally connected to the height of their teacher guide selves. Both ready to do it on their own and even in other relationships with tantric yogis who seem to be able to hold at least pieces of this practice. Both also thinking about each other many moments of every day and factoring each other into their plans in unsure and obscure ways amidst the uncertainty and fear of rejection. It’s about to be born……what will come out? Some brand of happily ever after…..

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