Devotional life

Every morning, I rise and walk to my altar.

I light a candle.

I sink into my p𖤍ssy.

I call to the Mother for guidance.

Then I move...

...not to music, but to the rhythm of my own breath.

I listen to the language of my body.

I let her speak in stretch, in sway, in silence.

Then I meditate...

...not to reach anywhere,

but to dissolve into the soft, quiet presence of love.

Then I exercise my body out in Mother Gaia

Not to sculpt it

...but to honor it.

To tend to this vessel that holds such fierce power.

This is my morning.

Every single morning.

Throughout the day, I pause.

I breathe.

I listen.

I stay connected.

I stay tuned in.

I stay in desire.

I create only from arousal.

I sit with my shadows.

I don't rush them away.

I laugh.

I cry.

I FEEL...all of it.

Without shame. Without trimming the edges.

At night, I return to my p𖤍ssy.

I rest my hands there.

I feel her....without agenda, without needing her to perform.

Just to be with her.

To remember who I am through her.

I experience ecstatic 0-rgasm.

I create wealth from that field.

I make mistakes.

I begin again.

Over and over.

Bleeding, breathing, becoming.

Because this...

...this sacred rhythm, this honest hum, this devotion to presence

This is the path.

I live it.