Hat trick…

This week I returned to flamenco dance class…

It was great to be back on the floor for a new season…

Wednesday night is bata de cola…

I didn’t know how things would go after three weeks of sitting on the couch and a snow-tubing strain in my deltoids…

But during the first time turning across the floor with a steep cross lift I heard a quiet Olé as I danced past teacher…

I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me…

Then I heard it again during my next traverse across the floor…

This time it sounded more direct…

And then,

during continuous vuelta,

which is where your skirt does not touch the floor,

as you rotate 360 degrees without stopping,

from one side of the room to the other,

she simply stood there,

in a place where I couldn’t avoid her,

and made eye contact…

She said,

Olé!!! LOOK you’re doing it!!!

And then I felt it,

and this wasn’t the first time…

Taoists call this feeling the internal orgasm,

and in their path of initiation,

a lot of practice with a master is required to achieve this sensation…

I’m not so sure…

I’ve learned from my past experiences,

and I now refuse to follow any master…

All I was doing was dancing,

in a spiral,

with all my clothes on…

We are conditioned to think that sexual energy is located in our pants,

and that we need someone else to find it…

It might start in your package,

but you can move it all around,

and use it everywhere,

for any creative process,

or action…

There are as many ways of using it,

as there are people…

And the more debris you move out of your pipes the more the energy flows…

From my experience,

a clogged drain,

and the junk you can pull out of it,

is one of the most disgusting things I have ever laid eyes on…

But we all see differently,

and my friend Prudence likes an invite when long haired friends clean out the drains,

of the bathroom sink,

and the shower…

Gross,

I know…

But one really shouldn’t be so judgemental…

The morning after my acupuncture appointment to evacuate dirty chi,

I had a dream that a hair was poking out of my nose,

like the limb of a Daddy Longlegs…

I started to pull on the fine hair,

expecting it to be an easy task,

but as I pulled and pulled,

this hair transformed,

into a thick timeline of dark cultural-historical activity,

that I could see stretching through my body,

all the way down to the inside of my big toe…

I finally got to the end of my rope,

and threw it onto the floor,

like a tangled roto-rooter…

I was amazed at what had been removed from my body,

and I felt fresh as an Irish spring…

Then I looked deep into my nose,

and it was all whitewashed like a brand new picket fence…

As soon as I woke up I called Prudence,

to tell her about the hairy drain that I had cleaned out of myself…

We only had a minute to talk because my phone battery doesn’t hold its charge any more,

and she was receiving company…

She laughed and thanked me for the information…

I thanked her for being the kind of person that I could share my dreams with,

first thing in the morning,

with no hesitation…

When I told Starshine (10) about this dream she said,

Don’t write about this…

If you do your readers are going to be re-pulsed…”

I said,

It’s my direct intention,

to separate the wheat from the chaff,

with extremes of lived experience…