settle up - author unknown

 

There is nothing sexier than a man who knows how to traverse the juicy pathways of his own heart. A man who can stand to be called out on his shit. A man who, when you boldly ask him to be there, says yes-hell yes...and shows up beautifully, with every ounce of his beating heart.

There is nothing more beautiful than a man who talks openly and passionately about what’s on his mind rather than pulling far away and glossing it over with a bullshit generic response of

“I’m fine.”

There is nothing more breathtaking in the world than a man who knows the salty taste of tears. A man who lets you see him on his worst days...stripped, sad and raw...vulnerability hanging out of his split-open heart like ripped ribbons.

There is nothing more bone-suckin’ delicious than a man who knows how to take care of a woman, how to touch her softly and fiercely at the same time, how to fuck her wildly while gazing gently into the sapphire depths of her soul, how to set her free while claiming her and make her feel like a cherished jewel of divinity, like the goddess she is.

There is absolutely nothing more astounding than a man who kisses like he could die five minutes from now. A man who understands the preciousness of this breath, this inhale…and exhale. A man who wants nothing more than to face the world together as you both smile, breathe, set the air around you on delicate fire, transcend bullshit and ascend towards nectar galaxies far too beautiful to comprehend.

There is nothing more maddeningly magnificent than a man who pulls you close and declares his love for you, and shouts it from the rooftops like music, and weaves his fingers through yours with ripe enthusiasm, and isn’t scared to call you too soon, and call you out on your shit, and call you the luscious love of his life.

There is nothing more goddamn gorgeous than a man who is fiercely himself, who holds the strongest heart space in his warm, sultry embrace...for you to bloom, blossom, flourish and soar...as he does the same.

At the end of every dissolving sands, apricot sunset-soaked day —

There is nothing sexier than a man who knows how to love himself. A man who values the truth running through his veins like sacred ink. A man brave enough to be there for you and himself when shit is beautiful and when it’s completely falling apart.

This is the kind of man you deserve. A man who isn’t afraid of emotion. A man who shows up one hundred percent. A man who is ready...who craves every drop, drip and ounce of an authentic, earthy goddess of a wonderful woman like you. Let him kiss you with his entire being until you remember who you really are.

Don’t settle down with him...

Settle UP into a more luscious, technicolor life. A life so beautiful it hurts sometimes. A life so fulfilling you’ll never be thirsty again. A life so freeing and spun of soul it makes you dizzy. Anything less than this heartfelt, present, purely sacred beauty is a goddamn tragedy.

Don’t settle Down...

Settle UP. ‘Cause when the divine masculine meets the divine feminine, magic happens. The sweetest magic of all.~

~unknown

the freedom of the crone

"If you want to be a bad ass sexually empowered woman, embrace your inner hag.

Thats right.

The crone.

The ancient old woman.

The witch.

The hag.

The crone archetype is an aspect of the feminine not exactly associated with sexuality.

Women groom themselves to be girls.

The younger the better.

Paint those lips red and blush those cheeks like you are wet and ripe for impregnation.

Make them believe you are in perpetual ovulation.

Make them hard.

Make them desire you.

Get that face lift.

Suck in that belly.

Bat those lashes.

Guess what.

The crone doesn't give a fuck.

And that is her power.

She embraces her spider lines and swinging, sagginesss.

After all, this is what life does to the body of a woman...eventually!

Does that make you uncomfortable?

Would you rather not see?

Her secret threatens to corrupt you.

She can make you wild.

She can reveal to you your power.

Your volcanic senseless holy

Once she opens her mouth, the jig is up.

They tell you she is crazy.

Dangerous because she has broken out of that jail cell you call restrictions.

How would you have sex if you didn't give a fuck about how pretty you look?

Or how flat your stomach is?

The crone is not an object of desire.

She is free to claim her own desire.

In a world that praises women for being objects of desire.

Where the more lust you can seduce the more value you possess, the crone is laughing with that cackle that only women of power have.

She does not possess the enchanting beauty of the maiden or the fertile reproductive juices of the mother.

She no longer bleeds.

She no longer bears children.

Her sex no longer waxes and wanes with the moon, gaining and draining energy with each passing tide.

She is full.

The portal to her blood has been sealed.

She is drinking in the nectar.

She is bathing in its luminous darkness.

Her sex is a diamond pressed and polished by years of experience and wisdom.

She has passed through all the phases of initiation as a woman.

That heavy web of social conditions all feminine creatures are baptized into.

She is unraveling herself from these webs.

She has liberated her sex from all their stories.

She is making it to the other side.

Freeing herself.

Without the ability to be a mother or a sex object, what is left of a woman and her sex?

I’ll tell you what,

Pure power that doesn't give a fuck.

Crazy wisdom that knows how to make love to the moment.

Sex that ripples through every authentic cell of your body.

Sex that pulses with every tiny whisper of life knowing life.

If you want to find the seat of your sexual power.

Your real deep sovereign sexual nature.

Find the crone that lives in you.

Wild. Ugly. Innocent. Real.

The real initiation begins here.”

~ Maya Luna

chemistry or alchemy

Chemistry or alchemy?

“The master was asked what was the difference

between chemistry and alchemy

in couple relationships and he replied

with these beautiful and wise words :

“People who seek ′′Chemistry′′ are love scientists,

i.e. they are used to action and reaction.

People who encounter ′′Alchemy′′

are artists of love, constantly creating

new ways of loving.

Chemicals love out of necessity.

The alchemists by choice.

Chemistry dies with time,

Alchemy is born through time ...

Chemistry loves the packaging.

Alchemy enjoys the content.

Chemistry happens.

Alchemy builds itself.

Everyone is looking for chemistry,

only a few find alchemy.

Chemistry attracts and distracts sexist and feminist.

Alchemy integrates the male and female principle,

so it transforms into a relationship

of free individuals with their own wings,

rather than an attraction that is subject

to the whims of the ego.

In conclusion, the master said

looking at his students :

“Alchemy brings together what chemistry separates.

Alchemy is royal marriage.

Chemistry & divorce we see everyday in most couples.

′′Let's start building conscious relationships,

because chemistry will always make your body age.

′While alchemy will always caress us from within′′~

 

author unknown