(I’m sure Goethe would appreciate the twist)
Imagine if all women lived from and in devotion to our vaginas.
If when we woke in the morning, the first thing we did was pet our furry girls.
And when we walked into the kitchen, we’d ask our lady lips what they wanted for breakfast.
Imagine how luxuriously soft and curvaceously beautiful everything in our home would be- designed in the image of our inner Goddess temple.
Imagine what we’d wear to work if our yonis picked out our clothes.
And what we’d drive to work. Perhaps a canoe down a winding, emerald green city river. Or a mustang with hooves rather than wheels. Or a red velvet magic carpet. Or a thirty speed bike with a fat beach cruiser seat. Certainly not a gas guzzling suv!
Imagine the desire filling us as we entered our workplace-and the deep satisfaction we’d know in our bodies as we offered ourselves completely to our inner masculine aspects, which carry our creative brilliance out into the world.
Imagine if our vaginas, not our parents or the voices in our heads, chose our career paths, including where went to school and what we studied.
What kinds of enlightened conversations we’d have with teachers and other students if we really listened and let the wisdom of our deep feminine knowing speak through us.
Imagine the safety we’d feel walking on campus, even in the dark, if we lived from within the sanctuary of our peaceful, healed and whole vaginas.
All of beautiful brothers loving us on our learning journey, always asking how they can better support us in deepening our relationship with our inner Goddess.
And how exciting it would be to dance in the flirtatious mystery of not knowing what’s next, yet when asked, be crystal clear on what we wanted in the moment.
Imagine how erotically sacred, how vulnerably sublime making love would be if we lived from and in devotion to our Goddess flowers.
How we’d never second guess ourselves about whether or not it was the right for us to open-or be seduced into doing something we didn’t want to do-or leave our bodies when our experience became too overwhelming-or feel like we were somehow sexually inadequate-or be touched in a way that wasn’t 100% pleasurable or be left sexually frustrated or feeling less than loved, honored and cherished.
Imagine how much more connected to their hearts and bodies men would be with such juicy, vagina-loving women-how much more available they would be for relationship and intimacy.
And how much happier we’d all be in our marriages if women listened to and spoke from our Goddess-spots-how much wider would be our understanding, yet fiercely uncompromising our truth.
Imagine how much more fun we’d have with our husbands, wives and children if we lived from the questions: “How can I open myself even more to receive the pleasure of this moment?” and “How can I offer myself to everyone’s most expanded experience of pleasure in this moment?”
How much more delicious food would taste, how much more joy we could have washing the dishes-and how much less we’d complain and be bored with everyday tasks if we lived from a place of unending desire and unconditional pleasure.
Imagine what we’d discover about ourselves and our experience living within the temple of our feminine sexual mystery-what we could share with others from sitting in the quiet, still, dark, fertile spaciousness of the underground mother.
Imagine the infinite possibilities we might find there in the Void, not just for our own lives, but for all of existence. And the power we might reclaim there to exponentially shift our seeming current circumstance-not just by birthing things in the world, but whole new realms of being into consciousness.
Imagine making love not just with each other, but with different qualities of being-especially juxta-positional qualities like innocence and power. Similar to how peace once merged with ecstasy to become bliss, what other states of being might be possible through our divine sex magic?
Nothing can ever be cast out of consciousness, but everything can be transformed and returned to its original form, which is Love, which is beyond all form.
Imagine women birthing a world from the love inside our vaginas, rather than fear-how gorgeous that world would be and how ferociously we’d care for it like mother alligators.
And how our brothers would instinctively know their roles in raising this new love child world with us, and how they’d willingly step up just as we once stepped into the fire of our divine feminine initiation.
Imagine the masculine and the feminine reigning side by side within our Goddess temple, looking out from the high tower, known as the third eye/I, in the same direction.
Imagine the cosmic potency of our unified sexual energy-the trust we’d have in our selves and for others-the courage we’d possess to follow our desires from the depths of our humanness to the highest reaches of the soul.
Imagine the visionary art and music we’d make-the transmissionary exhibitions and installations that would be funded in cities all over the world through the power of our illuminated sexual energy.
The sensual aesthetic of every down town- with its colorful, eco-friendly, sacred geometry architecture, mixed with spirals, waves and swirling accents- with painted tiles on walls, stairwells, tables and benches-surrounded by sculptures and fountains, trees, plants and flowers, all cared for without poisonous pesticides.
Imagine the community gardens growing on every corner instead of Starbucks and how many different kinds of natural playgrounds we could create instead of shopping malls if we took back the power inside our feminine bodies and took back the earth from corporations.
Imagine if women stopped trying to be like men and started bringing their feminine gifts of emotional intelligence, receptivity, intuition and wholistic win-win thinking into the business world. How much more valued we’d be for our unique skill sets and how paychecks would finally be based on performance rather than sex.
Imagine if we elected and voted for our leaders from our vaginas- and what we’d do to them if they broke their promises. Vaginas don’t like to be betrayed. As the saying goes: “Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn.”
And imagine how much more integrity there would be in politics if more politicians had vaginas-how much more human and earth friendly our governments would be if more of its leaders gave birth through their bodies.
Can you imagine a senator, who makes decisions from her clitoris, cutting subsidized birth control? Or shutting down family planning clinics? Or Goddess forbid- taking away women’s rights to our bodies and sexual pleasure in the name of patriarchal religion, which is actually the real anti-life force hiding behind its pro-life propaganda.
I certainly can’t imagine any child not having enough food to eat if vaginas were in charge. If your lady lips are anything like mine, they must be fed! And vaginas know how to make babies out of a single egg and sperm. They certainly can turn a loaf of bread and a fish into a feast for all.
And imagine how happy the whales would be swimming in clean, blue oceans. We may have forgotten, but our vaginas remember that whales are our grandmothers, who sing love songs to the universe, just as our grandmother stars watch over it.
And imagine all of the juicy older women gardening naked, having multiple orgasms from smelling flowers-refusing to give up their pleasure to statistics-having the best sex of their lives!
Imagine how rich and fertile the soil would be if women fed it with our monthly moon blood, knowing our blood is filled with sacred magic. And how there would be no need for violence and the spilling of blood if the earth was well fed.
Imagine if women took responsibility for global circumstances rather than blame it all on a lesser intelligent gender-if instead of being helpless victims, we started gathering together to envision rather than gossip, to inspire rather than compete with one another. Imagine the evolutionary ideas that would snap crackle and pop from such potent circles of women.
And the common ground we’d find in our vulnerable sharing and healing we would experience if each of us spoke from the depths of our vaginas-the universal wounds that would be revealed and the lineages of shame, fear and numbness that would broken.
Imagine the sexually awakened and empowered daughters we would raise if we began right now to really love our vaginas and our feminine bodies-and took time every day to tend to our own pleasure the way we care for the needs of others.
Imagine what would happen if for a moment we let ourselves be completely selfish, desirous and demanding as only our yonis can be. Where would we go? What would we do? Who would we be doing it with? How would we feel?
What would our yoni want to do if we took her on a date? What’s her favorite sushi roll? Dessert? Music? What instrument does she long to play? What poems lie inside of her? What foreign language does she most want to speak? What karaoke songs is she dying to sing? What Halloween costume does she really want to wear before October 31?
Does she prefer running, walking, skipping or dancing errands? For extra curricular pleasure, does she enjoy reading books, riding horses, shooting guns, climbing rocks or taking pictures of insects?
What would our yonis write about us on match.com?
How might we begin to know our primal most feminine part of ourselves better?
How might our world be different if women started living from and in devotion to our vaginas?