Last night I had a dream a wild dog pup came to the basement door of my childhood home. It looked like it had been through some shit, with bloody patches of fur missing and all skin and bones. The basement of my house growing up had big sliding glass doors that opened to a cement porch outside. I was a little girl in the dream-maybe 4 or 5 years old. When I told my parents about the dog pup, they warned me not to open the door.
“Wild dogs carry diseases. If it bites you, you can get very sick,” my mother says.
Knowing they won’t allow me to keep it, I at least want to call some sort of wild animal doctor so the wounded dog pup can be taken care of. Otherwise it might die.
But my parents tell me that wild animals are best left on their own. And since I don’t know any better, I take their word for it. But I can’t stop feeling concerned and the wild dog keeps returning each night. Though I do as I’m told, never opening the door, I bring my sleeping bag down to the basement where the dog pup and I can look at each other through the sliding glass window. It comes right up close and my heart breaks to see its eyes seemingly begging to come inside.
“How are you going to take care of a wild dog?” “Wild dogs don’t live in houses. They live in the woods,” my parents say when I speak to them again of my desire to let the pup in.
This goes on for several nights until the wild dog doesn’t return. I stay up late and wait by the window, not knowing if it’s dead or alive. I cry because just as I had once abandoned it by not opening the door, it has now abandoned me by leaving.
I wake from the dream to a growl outside my window. Though the low guttural sounds are likely coming from a possum, my in-between state thinks maybe the wild dog has come back to me.
This time I get out of bed, open the door and walk outside. The air smells of roses and jasmine. The sky is thick with clouds. The grass feels cold and wet beneath my feet. Though there isn’t a dog in sight, the night is filled with wildness. Even on this little patch of yard, in front of the house I live in, on a street among other houses in downtown Santa Barbara.
I feel like I’ve been grieving and searching for my lost wildness all of my life. And yet it’s right here, whenever I choose to open the door between the inner and the outer worlds-and let the holy moment, in all its simplicity and glory, touch me and let my inner experience touch it.
Every woman holds a starving, wounded wildness within her subconscious that longs to come into the light of her awareness.
As we care for our wildness, our wildness also feeds us. As we open the door that separates our inner and outer being, we discover they are one in the same, that we are all of it, that there has never been an “other,” and there is nothing to be afraid of.
The lower body, and specifically the root and pelvic chakras, and all the organs within them, is the house of the subconscious. The beliefs we hold here are the seeds of all patterns and habitual behaviors that unconsciously rule our lives. Together, they make up the wild wounded dog part of us that we can’t control and are afraid to let in for fear they will destroy us.
In women, the vagina is the gatekeeper of the root and pelvic chakras. In my year long pleasure practice, my most gratifying moments have been when I’ve touched into a pockets of pain I didn’t even know were there-and allowed this pain to open the door to my deeper inner experience all the way back to its origin, and feel seed beliefs, which are like subterranean beings, that have kept this pain in place.
Each point in my vagina holds a memory. As I press into each forgotten memory, sometimes I see actual scenes from my life, from my childhood and perhaps from past lives. Other times the memories just come in feelings – ranging from shame to terror to rage to tremendous grief. Always following their release, I feel ripples of energy flowing through my body, opening my heart and clearing my mind.
I have often thought “I am a freak to be doing this!” “I am self indulgent and narcissistic to think sharing my experience would be of any value to another.” Besides, what woman in her right mind would want to put herself through such an intense process? Of bringing up past trauma she has successfully denied enough to make her life reasonably happy and functional? I mean, why bother? Life if hard enough.
And yet I can honestly say I feel a new quality of sublime happiness I could have never imagined. Though I’ve had a love affair with my yoni all of my life, I now feel like she and I are married. She is no longer simply an object of beauty, pleasure and pain, she is the doorway into my inner being, world and experience.
I’m excited to share this renegade path to pleasure, that is based in Tantric teachings, as well as my own personal experience, in my Women’s Sexual Mystery School. This coming session we will play with different feminine archetypes, with the intention of integrating our light and dark aspects and expanding into our full female range and sexual/creative expression.
If you are ready to open the door to your wildness, to let go of fear and be free from the inside out, go to my website www.SexualMystery.com right now and sign up! If you can’t make it, get on my email list and receive 3 tips to turn on your feminine sexual super powers and updates about my future online Women’s Sexual Mystery School coming next year.
In the meantime, please share your thoughts. I really want to hear from you! How does my story touch you? What will you take with you? Who might also be inspired by this story? Send it to them. The wild dogs thank you!
Love and Shakti, Lisa