It’s like you never cleaned your house or your car and all that gunk kept building up. When you go on a cleanse and release old toxic matter that has been in you for decades, you will also release the emotions that have been trapped. The toxic matter often contains the energy of what was going on that we held onto, sometimes sadness, or anger, or other emotional stuckness that needs release. All this trapped stuff inside is toxic build-up; it affects your emotions and makes your attitude negative.  Concurrent psychotherapy can be very helpful with the release process.

Spring (“spring cleaning”) or summer when the weather is hot are the best times to go on a cleanse. Most involve eating lighter on the food chain, or eating only alkaline foods, or fasting, plus eliminative herbs. Most involve cleansing processes like colonics and/or enemas. You have to get over your distaste for this; it will be good for your acceptance of your and other people’s bodies. The main teaching on a Tantric level is getting over your revulsion to the body’s natural processes.

Personally, I love the Arise & Shine program and have done it at least a dozen times. It involves eating only fruits, vegetables, and alkaline grains plus herbs for a month, and then if you’re ready, fasting on juice and water for an intensive week. You learn a lot about your body when you see how much stuff comes out of you when you’re not eating, I mean, where is that stuff coming from? Gross, but certainly it is better out of the body than in.

When you are cleaned out, you will experience new levels of clarity, well being, and health. For awhile, you will have lost your cravings for addictive foods, but only until you start eating them again. You will bring to yourself and all you meet a new clean shining awareness without all that toxicity standing between you.

© 2010 Catherine Auman

I love it! Dynamic Meditation is the best way to let go of old stuff, renew myself, enter into stillness and get fit, all at the same time. – Lokita Carter

Dynamic is like having Nuclear Energy for breakfast! – Abhi-Irena

Osho created the active meditations because he said the Western mind is too active to go directly into silence. This meditation is not only fun and ecstatic, it clears plenty out plenty of psychological rubbish.

I usually park in the parking structure on 2nd Street between SM and Broadway, opposite what used to be Exhale, because its free for 2 hrs and I don’t have to bother about coins or tickets etc. and it’s not that long a walk to the beach because there is a foot overbridge right between Santa Monica and Broadway on Ocean Park that takes you straight to the beach and to the spot where we are meeting.

Bring something to share for a potluck breakfast afterwards.

This is a FREE event.

Time: Sunday mornings, 7:00am

Location: 3rd lifeguard post north of Santa Monica Pier

Questions? 310-460-9399

He looked up to see her examining his food.  “Got to keep my strength up,” he said, squeezing a lime over the cukes.

Geno was one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on, even here at the ashram, where she was becoming rather immune to the whole issue.  He stood at well over six feet with a body that spoke to years in the gym, and his hazel eyes and tanned skin glowed with vitality and health.

Early in the group, he had informed everyone that he had a partner back in Italy and was therefore off limits, although he was available to do exercises with.  Many women had shared a ping of disappointment.  This morning, Laurel and Geno had chosen to do the sensual massage assignment together.  When it was her turn to be the giver, she had watched in amazement as he didn’t even flinch when she neared the vicinity where most men take notice.  His touch on her was rough and insensitive, not at all in tune with her response or lack of it, sleepy and unaware.  He got somewhat excused for this by his otherworldly good looks, but not completely.

She hadn’t told him how unsatisfying it had been.  In true good girl fashion she had told him it had been “nice.”  Someone taught her once that “nice” stands for “Nothing In me Cares Enough about you (to tell you the truth),” and she supposed that was true.  It was not an unpleasant diversion, however, to sit at his table and gaze at that face.  And that body.

“What’s your girlfriend in Italy like?” she asked.

“She is a great and famous teacher of tantra,” he said. “Right now she is giving a seminar in Tuscany.”

“Oh,” she said, thinking back to his touch devoid of sensuality. “You must be learning a lot about tantra from her?”

“Oh yes,” he said.  “She’s an amazing woman.”

“Then why are you here, studying tantra several thousand miles away from her?”

“She says I need to learn more about being on my own, and she is right.  I want to lose my tendency of codependency.”

That buzz word, I hate it, Laurel thought.  “What exactly does that mean anyway?  It seems to me it’s a way to put down people who value being in a relationship over being alone.”

“Here, I hope to deepen my aloneness,” he said, “and then take it back to be with her.  In a more authentic way.”  He moved the tray with its mound of peelings and rinds to the other side of the table, and poised his spoon over the melon.

“A relationship is like climbing a great mountain,” he continued.  “It is a journey that is difficult and long and takes much preparation, much training.  It is the only thing in life that is of value.”  He dipped his spoon into the watery red fruit and took a bite.  “I don’t understand these men who come here just to sleep with any woman.  It shocks me; I don’t understand it.  It has no……,”  he scratched his head.  “Ah, my English is so bad.  What is the word?”  His eyes turned up into the back of his skull, searching his memory banks for an Italiano-Inglese dictionary.

“Rispettare….no?…No!”  Laurel shook her head.  She certainly had no idea.

“Decoro….stima….Ah, ah, I must know.”  He was frantically looking around the crowded lunch area, for what she couldn’t fathom.  “Ah!”  and he sped off over in the direction of the fountain.

Suddenly Laurel found herself sitting alone, not really understanding what had happened.  She shrugged it off to just another strange ashram occurrence.  First she was having lunch with a gorgeous Italian raw foodist, and abruptly she wasn’t.  She reached over and took a dripping bite of his watermelon, then replaced the spoon.

Geno finally reappeared holding a tattered book in his left hand.  He leafed through the pages, shaking his head and muttering.
“Ah hah!”  he trumpeted.  “Nobility!  That’s the word.  Nobility.  It has no nobility.  That’s it.  To sleep with so many women has no nobility.”  He got up and left the table to return the book.

© 2009 Catherine Auman

I picked Frankie the cat up from the pound last week and carried her to her new home. She immediately ran for cover under the bed and wouldn’t come out for 24 hours. When she began tentatively venturing out she would run back whenever she got spooked, often just because someone was walking by, leading to the conclusion she may have been previously abused. A couple of times now she has let me stroke her and scratch her head and then I get my reward: the magic motor of her purring starts and doesn’t stop, that is, until she runs back under the bed again. Thank god she came knowing how to use the cat box.

I just found out on the Internet that back in the Middle Ages during the holocaust of women and gays they designated ‘witches,’ they also perpetrated a huge massacre of cats. The Church was afraid of these ‘familiars’ of the so-called witches because it was believed that cats had psychic powers and could help perform spells. There was even a dog that was tried and hanged as a witch in the Salem witch trials. When you look deeply into Frankie’s mysterious blue eyes, you can almost believe they were right – she knows something we don’t.

Pets seem to have been put into our lives for one purpose and one purpose only: to love and be loved. There’s plenty of well-documented research that being around animals reduces people’s stress levels, lowers blood pressure and even helps us live longer. Animal assisted therapy has been used with at-risk teenagers, folks in nursing homes, AIDS patients, and heart attack victims. I got a call recently from a prospective patient who wanted to know if I had a “therapy dog,” which was the first time I’d heard the term (and no, I don’t, although I’m thinking about training Frankie). On a brochure for an expensive recovery center I got in the mail they list “equine therapy” as a treatment modality which really means, it makes people feel better to ride a horse.

I guess the gist of this is that lonely people everywhere could benefit from owning a pet. There’s something about that unconditional love that’s harder to get from flawed human beings. Also, here in LA, it’s a way that people shop for lovers – going to the dog park to meet other dog owners. It’s easy to talk to someone with a dog, right? No ulterior motive other than just being friendly. Guess we’ll need to get them to set up cat and gerbil parks for everyone else.

© 2008 Catherine Auman

But the visual is only one of our five senses, and by telling us that the visual is what’s sexy, we learn to have a skewed emphasis on physical image. We come to pay less attention to the other four senses and the art of sensuality is being lost. When we talk about the sensual, we are talking about the seductive qualities of the sounds of our lover’s voice and the sighs of lovemaking, our partner’s particular scent, the taste of their sweat, and the touch of their skin.

Sensual sex is about two people connecting through all five senses. We are meant to make love not only with our eyes, but also with our nose, our ears, our mouth, and our hands. We can learn to enjoy the touch, scent, sound, and taste of sex, instead of only the sight. Many of the exercises practiced in the art of tantra are conducted blindfolded so as to short-circuit the eyes and have the practitioner focus instead on the other senses.

There is a famous story of Napoleon writing home to his wife, Josephine, “I’ll be home in three days. Don’t bathe.” To men of earlier generation, the natural scent of a woman was an intoxicating aphrodisiac that drove them wild with desire.

Sensual means that you appreciate your partner in their entirety, experiencing their desirability just the way they are. Rather than focusing on what, in your opinion, is not like a magazine cover, close your eyes and feel, listen, smell, and touch the incredible and unique sexiness of this particular lover who is gracing you with their intimacy and vulnerability. Every person wants to be loved in their totality, not just as a collection of body parts.

© 2008 Catherine  Auman

One characteristic of a spiritual relationship is that instead of focusing on the other person’s exterior, we focus on the perfection within. Just as we all have not-so-beautiful parts on the outside, we all have a perfect core inside at our center. When we want our relationship to have a spiritual component, we attempt to keep our attention on this perfection within, rather concentrating on what’s outside.

The great Tantra Master Osho once said regarding relationships, “The Other is always right.” I was stunned when I first heard this. Like most people, I had been constantly pointing out when I was right and my partner was wrong, all in the name of “communicating honestly.” In retrospect it was all a thinly disguised power struggle.

I argued with Osho’s statement in my mind, and then decided to see what I could learn from it. As a technique, I recommend it highly. You don’t have to agree with it to experiment. Practice interpreting that the other was right and you were wrong next time you are reviewing a fight or disagreement. The ego spends all its time proving that it is superior. See what happens from the perspective of love.

When you begin this discipline of seeing what is right about the other person rather than what is, according to you, wrong, you may start to experience your partner as your teacher, or guru. Some of the other attributes of spiritual relationships that people have mentioned are placing a high value on listening, integrity, emotional openness, sensitivity, truth, having a raise the bar attitude, and having a passion for learning and growing.

When people’s lives are dedicated to something higher than just getting their own needs met, their relationships will follow suit. This can show up as a dedication to make the world a better place by working for the environment, helping kids, or serving some other higher calling. Your relationship will be dedicated to something more important than merely trying to get your needs met, and this is what we call a spiritual relationship.

© 2008 Catherine Auman

As she neared the corner to turn to her flat, an Indian man in his mid twenties stopped her. He wore a stiffly starched Western style shirt, immaculately white, and black trousers. His little mustache quivered. He came up to Laurel’s chin.

“Please, sir,” he said, addressing Laurel. Laurel wanted to scream at him that she was not a ‘sir’ but she bit her tongue. Was the only honorific in Hindi masculine?

“My wife and I,” he continued. His voice was insistent and firm, determined to get what he was after. “We are married new. Please, sir, honor us, bless our marriage.”

Behind him was a shy Indian woman, dressed in punjabi and beaded sandals, her glossy black hair gathered into a thick braid. Her eyes were downcast and she clung to her husband’s arm. Laurel wanted to laugh. Her bless a marriage? Ludicrous. What was with these people?

Then she realized that to them she was a sannyasin, a person on a spiritual quest, which in India denoted a holy person. She laughed to think of herself as holy, yeah, celibate and all. But then again, she argued with herself, she was dedicating her life to spiritual search. In the West, this may have made her an uncool person, but here it was honored as a respected life path. Maybe her spirituality was not that of a celibate monk dedicated to hours of pranayama or late nights studying the dharma. She was equally as determined as he was to see it to the end. Maybe she ought to regard her own life choices with a little more respect.

How did one bless a marriage? “All blessings for your marriage,” Laurel said. “May you live long and happily together.” She waved her arms around like she imagined a priest would. Would that do?

The man smiled at his wife who nodded. The newly married couple walked on into their life together, and Laurel walked on into her life alone.

© 2006 Catherine Auman

Second, long before you want to have sex, let her know how much you like her body. Start complimenting the day before, the week before, better yet, make it a constant thing. In this culture where advertising and magazines are constantly telling us we are not measuring up, all women are insecure about their attractiveness. You would not believe the gorgeous fashion models I have had in my office who are obsessed that they are not beautiful enough. Make your compliments real and frequent. Work at it.

Third, realize that foreplay starts hours before sex. Spend some quality time giving her your full attention. Talking, cuddling, being physically close without (yet) being sexual, these things help a woman realize she might be in the mood. Mostly, it is about listening to her feelings and thoughts. One of the most aphrodisiac things for a woman to hear is, “Tell me more about that.”

Fourth, focus on what is right with her and the relationship rather than what in your opinion is missing. If she thinks you prefer women who look or act like porn stars she will have trouble opening herself to you. If you are critical of her body, her feelings, or her habits, why should she trust you by becoming more vulnerable? You’ve heard that old saying that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, right? Tell her what you like even if you need to stretch.

Fifth, you probably won’t get much action if you don’t do your fair share of the household duties. Not helping causes resentment (not a sexy emotion) and women consistently rate this as a primary reason for dissatisfaction in a relationship. If you’re not up to it, neither is she. Spring for a housekeeper and watch her receptiveness increase.

Finally, don’t wait to initiate sex until right before bed. She’ll turn you down because she’s too tired. Go to bed at least a half an hour early. If you’re not ready to fall asleep afterward, you can always get up to watch the tube or go online.

Good luck. Enjoy learning to seduce your partner. Won’t you feel masterful when she melts like butter in your hands? Not only your relationship but the whole world will benefit from your increased pleasure and contentment.

© 2008 Catherine Auman

“All right,” Mevlana said. “Women, raise your arms and feel your longing. All the longing you have ever felt. Reach, reach for the sky.”

Laurel lifted her arms to the ceiling and felt the stretch along her ribcage and the sides of her breasts. Her head fell back and her left hand covered her right as her fingers strained upward. Longing. She felt her longing. So many things she had desired in her life: beautiful clothes, that pair of silk pants with the silver braid, that boy at summer camp, what was his name? Ice cream, and world peace, and for summer never to end.

“Really reach for it,” Mevlana coaxed. “Long with all your might.”

Laurel remembered her ambition for career success and the trappings that were supposed to come with it: a designer-decorated home, a luxury car, and tropical vacations in Fiji, or Bali, or Kuala Lumpur. She had fantasized being as rich as Oprah, and craved the opulent life that magazines extolled. Her itching for this consumerism had gradually declined as she began to realize it was all greed stoked by the marketing machine.

“Feel your longing,” Mevlana said. “Really feel your longing.”

Laurel strained harder. The air in her chest pushed down against her diaphragm and her arms elongated up, further. Her fingers spread wide toward the ceiling, grasping, reaching.

So much effort and money and work spent aspiring to be beautiful, hoping to be loved and cherished by a man. Where was he? The dream of the Perfect Beloved. Desire to be united with him. The pining to be held, to be made love to, to be made love to expertly and to surrender to the biggest orgasm ever. The coveting of other women’s boyfriends.

“Feel all the longings of your life,” Mevlana said. “Don’t hold back.”

There was the yearning to stop the search and be flooded with Love and finally feel satiated. Laurel reached even further. To understand what was really going on. Why life had to hurt so badly. Why it never worked out the way you hoped. To know the secrets of death, and life, for that matter. A passion to get to the place they call Enlightenment, and to understand what the heck it is we are all doing here. How she hungered to know the Truth.

Laurel tensed, exhaling the air out of her lungs, hard. She lengthened her arms above her head, further, farther. Up as high as they would go.

There was a rustling on the dais and for the first time, Laurel became aware of the soft raga Bashir had chosen as the music. Mevlana stood and called out an instruction. “This is to the men. Rise up behind your partner and let her feel your support. Unmistakably, let her know the full degree of how much you encourage her in her longing. Hold her and incite her to go even further in her pursuit so that she knows that this time, she does not endeavor alone.”

Laurel felt Michael’s body rise up behind her, felt his warmth against the curve of her back. His hands slid up, grasped her forearms from behind and urged them up a little further. Laurel gasped. The effort was intense. This is what it felt like for longing to be okay and not secretive and humiliating. It had never occurred to her to ask that her appetites be supported, by girlfriends maybe, but not by men.

“Really let yourself be supported in your longing, in your passion,” Mevlana said.

With Michael holding her, Laurel let herself relax and permit his solidity to carry her. To be supported like this allowed for a modicum of trust, trust that her prayers might be answered. It was tremendously healing, Laurel realized, looking up at Mevlana with gratitude.

The yearning and stretching continued. That’s got to be enough now, she thought. Surely this exercise must be almost over. But no, it was not. The effort was beginning to wear. Michael’s got to be tired of me by now, she thought. He must be thinking what a dolt I am to be so full of lust. He must wish this would end, feel a hankering to move on. She peered around. His eyes were glistening with kindness. The shock made her disappear back into her striving.

“You’ll notice that longing is always attached to pain,” Mevlana called out, “but what to do? That’s the nature of it.”

Laurel suddenly realized that even if she never got what she hoped for, as she actually never had in the past, everything would still be all right. The longing itself was the point. It all really wasn’t about the objects of desire. That was the error, seeing the object as the point, rather than the longing itself.

“All right,” Mevlana broke in. “Take a moment to make sure you have exhausted all longing and get ready to switch places. Men will become the long-ers and the women will be the support persons.”

They switched. As Laurel put her hands on Michael’s body, she smelled his scent, and admired the definition of his arms. As the exercise proceeded, she noticed how much easier it was to support a man in his striving compared with how it had been a completely unfamiliar experience to be supported by a man in hers. She felt how sexy she considered a man to be in his longing, how noble, and honorable. It was hard to feel the same way about herself. She had experienced her own longings as pathetic, but a man’s as worthy of support. She felt now, and had always been, happy to be there for him, whoever he was.

As the late afternoon sun cast shadows across the group room floor, the exercise came to an end. All members of the group came to relax in a circle in front of the dais at Mevlana and Bashir’s feet.

“Now you know more about longing than ninety-nine percent of the world,” Mevlana said. “Use this knowing wisely. Realize that if your love has any motivation in it, it is not love. Life is fulfilled by longings, not by ambitions.

“The longing that men and women have for each other,” Mevlana continued, “you have to understand its true nature. There’s nothing wrong with it, but it’s really longing for God, for the Ultimate. The longing has to be completely frustrated, or we wouldn’t get on to what’s real.”

Laurel looked over at Michael and smiled. Behind him sat Ian, cuddled with the Brazilian girl, then Stefano, then Jack who sat by himself. Completely frustrated. She could truly say that she loved these men without any longing, although that may not have always been the case.

© 2008 Catherine Auman