About Me

Exactly 10 years ago I sat across from White Hawk, a shaman crone and artist, as she completed my animal soul portrait. The concept was this: She entered a trance state, met with the animal guide(s) most present in your energy field, and incorporated it into your portrait. Two and a half hours later, she turned the canvas around and almost blinded me with the energy she had transferred, colored pencil to paper.

There I was, my 27-year-old face almost completely washed out by what she called an “auric, angelic light.” A crown of golden light flowed from my temples and met at the front of my neck, where a beautiful light blue stag peeped out of my energy field. “This animal represents a major life lesson for you regarding your sacred speech, your truth,” White Hawk told me as I traced the outline of the horns that seemed to wrap around my throat. “At some point in your life, you will be confronted with claiming your power here.”

Ten years later, 40 pounds lighter, a health crisis transmuted, an ex-husband and numerous ex lovers later, I began exploring the tantric path. Tantra is something I have always considered a guilty pleasure to consider in my life. I’ve flirted with it for years. I’ve bought books, talked to people about it and basically danced around its edges. I had reached a point in my life, however, where flirting with Tantra would no longer suffice. I needed to either explore a commitment or move on. I felt this truth in my bones. So after another frustrating personal relationship and a date-rape experience, I gave in.

You see, an interesting thing had been happening to me. My taste in men was getting worse as I got older, not better. But not only that, the men I was attracting into my life exhibited strong animalistic urges toward me and acted as though they could not “help themselves” from taking advantage of me. Further, with each man I kept getting the distinct impression that some sort of sexual healing was going on in spite of myself.

Now, I am an energy healing practitioner, but this was not a “hands on” healing session. Inevitably I would find myself, yet again, giving in to a sexual experience I did not want. Only this time I kept hearing a faint voice saying “I am healing you, I am healing you.” This truly puzzled me as nothing conscious was taking place. To add an ounce of wonder to the equation, the men were each having what I would characterize as healing crises. I am a firm believer in “healer, heal thyself,” and I decided that if part of my journey here on earth was to help heal other’s sexuality I absolutely had to start with myself.

The Red Road

I found myself in the Yabyummy treatment room, at the cusp of a healing red session with Steven Jay. I’ve received quite a few healing sessions over the past 3-5 years, and I’ve come to learn (finally) that fear is one emotion worth exploring. So here I am. Steven Jay is grounded. He emits a strong, peaceful presence that acts as a sort of tranquilizer. If I squint my eyes just so, I might even be able to see the strands of light connecting him to source. In short, I trust him implicitly and, while I am nervous and my throat is constricted, I am not scared. He could not be more gentle or more strong.

After discussing intention, Steven Jay guides me in a meditation that weaves my roots into the earth’s core. I intermingle with juicy goddess energy and breathe in unconditional love. I exhale anything I no longer need. On each breath I bring the energy up and clear each chakra. At this point I am feeling more grounded, more safe. I already feel very connected to the earth mother, so this feels extra calming and nurturing. However, the next stage of the meditation brought with it a surprise.

As we brought in the divine masculine through the crown of my head and Steven clearly defined the godly dimensions of this energy, I felt overwhelmed with a new knowledge. I was not truly familiar with this energy. Certainly I called on father sky in my own meditation and healing circles. But I had never considered the details of this energy. I realized that I had never truly allowed the divine masculine into my body. With this awakened understanding came a flood of truth for me.

If my father, who had abused and neglected me as a child, was my first introduction to the divine masculine, I had disconnected from it long ago. In a matter of seconds spirit showed me all the ways I had cut myself off from the sacred male aspect and also how I had manifested numerous lessons in my life divinely orchestrated to steer me back into the loving arms of the father.

As I envisioned my mother and father’s higher selves as divine masculine and feminine holding me at the end of the meditation, tears were streaming down my cheeks. “Do you feel safe enough for me to leave and get you some tissue?” Steven asked me. I shook my head yes, timidly. “Can you take a breath and ask yourself if you really feel safe?” Steven had a hunch that I was on the brink of some sort of release. I took a half breath and then I cried the tears of a neglected baby, a molested child, a raped teenage girl. He asked permission to hold me as he moved behind me. As he channeled calm, loving, strong male energy I finally realized that all these years I had been trying to reconnect with sacred father through unhealthy sexual experiences. I did not have a relationship with the divine masculine, and it was no wonder I never felt safe and had no boundaries.

As I wept, I released what felt like ancient pain. I relinquished the victim inside me who cowers behind fault. I bade farewell to bloated, painful memories of allowing myself to be overpowered. I cried the anger and guilt and shame out of my bones that kept me tied to being some sort of sexual slave. I cried until, at the end of the tunnel, I saw all the light and godly energy inside every man who had ever been in my life. I focused on that aspect of these men, and opened my heart to new possibilities.