Overturn 2000+ Years of Christian Shame and Repression with This Nifty Book, and Feed the Poor

Humility is the fear of the Lord; its wages are riches and honor and life. –Proverbs 22: 4

Don’t be afraid. Just believe.–SexyJesus, Mark 5:36

Two stories.

1.

One, about my ex-boyfriend. I really loved that guy.

I was in between jobs, you see, and facing divorce and the loss of my house and all that jazz, and I was feeling pretty insecure. But I had this nice guy in my life who took me out to restaurants and bought me nice jewelry and kissed me and hugged me a lot. It was awesome. And I was weighed down by the cares of my world, of course, but he made things better, that was for sure. And once, I met his sister, but when she asked me what I did for a living and I tried to explain having multiple jobs and not quite being settled yet, I sort of stuttered a bit. And later, while lying next to me, my boyfriend asked me why I did that, stuttered. Because he saw me as confident, and it’s what he liked so much about me.

And I said, “Well, you think I should have just one job and stuff….”

And he got annoyed and shook his head. “Who gives a fuck what I think!” he said. And I think he said something else after that which was supportive, but I can’t remember that part, because the first part got me so hot.

2.

I was at this start-up next generation thingie the other night in New York City. The room was full of very cute young men. Boy, were they cute! I mean, it’s hard to get that many cute boys in a room! And they were eating chocolates and strawberries and vegan chocolate chip cookies (of which I didn’t partake, because c’mon, vegan?) and drinking some wine. And I wrote a bunch of them love letters, which I had composed at a coffee shop an hour before. And I asked them all sorts of personal questions that brought about really beautiful answers. And I had a couple of them read poetry from Rupi Kaur. Do you know Rupi Kaur? If not, you should look her up, her poetry is minimalist and amazing.

So after this guy with all the worldly success talked for a while at the front of the room, I found my way next to this woman in the back row and started a conversation. I think her name was Shirley. And I told her all about my book, and about the MOST AMAZING DEAL THAT EVER WAS, which is $150,000 for the first copy and a trip to Paris and dinner at my place and all these other special amenities which is really generous, because as I was writing all that stuff up, I was like, Am I really going to give all of this away? Okay. I’ll be generous. 

And she looked at me like I was crazy. She said, “People wouldn’t even pay that much to see Tony Robbins or something. Why would someone pay that to you?” 

And I looked her right in the eye with a big smile and told her, “Because I’m a woman.”

And then she got really upset! She like, shook her head a bunch and grabbed her purse and her coat and started to stand up. And I had one love letter left in my hand, addressed to a person who loves secrets, and I said, “Well, did you want this last letter?”

And she was like, “No, no.” And she promptly walked away.

Do you think she thought I was crazy, or a kook or something? I don’t know.

So I gave the letter to this gorgeous woman named Kate who, I suspect, also wants to change the world and overturn 2000+ years of repressive Christianity in a really fun and interesting and unique way.

Because, honey? If you want to dig in and go straight to the root of the problems of the fabric of society, you know how you do it? I’ve been working at this for many months, and I figured it out.

You make women feel good in their bodies.

You make women feel divine.

And when women feel this way, and have this kind of confidence, you heal the world. I’m not kidding. I’m really not. Because when women are happy like this, men are abundantly happy, too! And when women trust each other, they start working together in a place of vitality instead of depression and they start making grand, beautiful plans of community and networking and grassroots beauty that changes everything.

It is so brilliant and wonderful and the answers are all in this sweet little book.

I mean, sweet, little, and AMAZING, and the GREATEST BOOK EVER WRITTEN!

I am just so fortunate that it came through me. I can’t even take the credit, really. I just listened to the call of Jesus and flew to Paris to write it, and sat in cafes for a week, and channeled the motherfucking thing. And here it is, for your viewing pleasure.

I mean, after I meet the special people or person who pays $150,000 to release it, that is. And there are all these other doo-dads that I am so generous to offer, and sometimes I think I give too much away, but you know, it’s the right thing to do because when I use this money to build a foundation I’m going to funnel a ton of money to the poor.

What do you get for the first $150,000, MotherJana? (Because there may be multiple offers and donations to be worked out.)

*The first copy, signed, in print and digital format, with a two-hour personalized meet and greet WITH MOTHERJANA at a location you determine, to discuss the book before it is widely released 

*A round-trip flight to Paris WITH MOTHERJANA as your guide to visit all the cafes and locations highlighted in the book, spanning 5-days

*A four-course French meal PREPARED BY MOTHERJANA in her home (with or without video)

*A bouquet of roses

*A month of personalized, daily handwritten letters addressed to you and only you 

*A sneak peak of two other MOTHERJANA PUBLICATIONS due out within the next year, with a two-hour coffee discussion (with or without video)

*A personalized, 90-minute coaching session on intimacy and matters of the heart for just you, or for you and a person you love, or as a gift to a person or couple you think would benefit 

Oh, and there’s a secret! But only a couple of people know! I think, like, four women know the secret now.

Anyway, hugs. If you want to buy the first copy and get all that other hoopla, just get in touch!

janamarierose79@gmail.com / 610 304 9007

Bisous!

–MotherJana

Bring Sex out of the Darkness, into the Living Room

For a long time, the way for a woman to become noticed was to show her tits or her snatch.

The way for a woman to become seen was to get naked, was to sell sex.

And the assumption has been that a woman is good for taking care of a man’s kids, or she’s good for pleasuring a man in the bedroom, but putting both together is kind of awkward, because you can’t be a virgin, or you can’t be the embodiment of goodness, and also a whore.

And then what happened is this third way started coming up the pike, a woman with a great mind, and a lot of passion, and drive and determination. Could a woman like that also be nurturing? Could she be sensual? Are we able to acknowledge and experience that she is well-rounded, or should we find a nice box to put her in and call it a day?

Let’s talk about what it takes for a woman to command respect in a culture that has told her, for centuries, that she is not fully her own.

A culture that has told her, You belong to your husband.

A culture that has told her, You belong to your children.

A culture that has told her, Your value lies in whether you can attract a man.

A culture that has told her, You can only make it in a man’s industry if you look and talk like a man.

And here I am, with my little Buddhist pamphlets, in my flowy skirt and feather earrings, taking to heart the spiritual practice, “Live your life like it’s an experiment,” and seeing where it gets me.

Shit, if nothing else, at least you can call me brave.

So what’s my biggest message to women? It’s this:

You belong to you, and no one else. You are your own. Figure out who you are, and figure out what matters to you, and fucking shine in all that brilliance, and don’t cut yourself into pieces for anybody. 

And to men?

Respect women, and try to understand how hard it is to make it in a man’s world. A woman is not made to please you. She is a fucking human being, not a sex toy or a prop to help you rise up. In fact, it is time for her to do the rising. So put out your hands and help her step up.

But damn, 2000 years of our culture operating in the opposite way? Well, that takes a lot of time to overturn.

We can work on it, though. We can do something. Because it is a hearty, worthy cause.

And you know what is the biggest obstacle of us making progress on this front, a front which is, I think, the most important endeavor of our time? This healing of the relationship between men and women, this blending of the two energies toward a better world?

Shame. Fear.

The deepest source of shame existing in our culture is the shame and guilt and fear around sexuality, because we have no good teachers who have modeled and taught us a healthy relationship to sex. None. We probably don’t even know what a healthy sexual relationship looks like, because if anyone has one, they don’t talk about it, because um, you know, shame. 

What the church has done, as the primary institution of power, is to get into the heart and psyches of people very, very young, and teach us that we are sinful creatures, unworthy of love. But only through “the grace of God” are we loved, and we better get on our knees and repent and accept any breadcrumbs that come our way.

The church is, in many ways, an emotional abuser. For all the good it does, it also does just as much bad. It speaks poison. It does the opposite of what the Good Teacher intended, the Good Teacher who was against churches to begin with. It keeps us locked up in chains.

And being locked up in chains is not what it feels like to experience God. What God feels like, on an intimate level, is complete freedom. It feels like opening your arms wide in space. It feels like floating in a giant pool.

And the way the church has nurtured this abusive relationship within us is to try to cut us off from our bodies, to treat as shameful all the ways we engage in, or talk about, sex.

If you teach people to loathe their bodies, if you teach people all their desires are wrong, then you create a power dynamic where people have to turn to you for healing. And meanwhile, you’re the one causing the problem. Because you have taught people that one deepest elements of who they are, their sexuality, is a problem to be overcome, is an element of being human that must be suppressed and shamed and hidden and thrown away. And meanwhile, you recognize you’ve taught something that is completely impossible to uphold, so you go around in dark corners and dark alleys and dark bedrooms and confessionals, getting your rocks off any way you know how, living a lie, becoming the very opposite of what it means to be good and whole, and soiling the Teacher’s good name.

It’s a mess. And there are layers upon layers of this thing to unpack. Layers and centuries of destruction around our relationship to our bodies that the church has caused.

So where do we begin?

Just start where you are, if you care about this. Start with any opportunity given to you in any day. And what I mean by opportunity, is being brave. It is speaking up. It is not putting sex or sexuality in a dark corner, but instead recognizing it as a part of an integrated human being. Part of it. Not the whole thing.

Respect women, not just for what you daydream or fantasize they can do for you, but for the vastness of their capability, the depth of their souls.

And love your own body. Love is not limited to masturbation, my dear. Masturbating a lot is not necessarily self-love, and could very much be self-abuse, depending on how you’re using it. Practice ways of being in your body that are sexual and non-sexual. Marvel at the shape of your hands and feet. Touch your shoulders, your arms, with love. Dance. Breathe. Be in flow.

*Listen to this podcast I recorded yesterday with Candice Smith, an Intimacy Educator from North Carolina. We talk about shame, sexual wounds, and the struggles couples have to communicate effectively when it comes to topics about sex. Oh, and throw in the church and a little bit about porn and all that stuff, too.

This is real stuff, ay?

Link to The Rose Compass on Spotify: 

Photo by Marten Newhall on Unsplash

Humble and Humiliation Have the Same Root

I woke up this morning thinking of all the times in recent years that I went to someone asking for help.

I remember once, when I realized my marriage was about to be over and I had no back-up plan or income, I knocked on the door of a mother in my son’s class because I needed someone to talk to, and she let me in, and then we formed a friendship that helped me through many troubled months.

I remember calling my mom one day from work—and I can’t believe I’m telling you this—when I knew I couldn’t do the job anymore and I was going to have to take a leave of absence and what I really needed was a grilled cheese. I really just wanted to meet her at my apartment and go somewhere to eat a grilled cheese. And it was February, and the weather was strangely warm, and it was the first time in a long time I wanted to be in a church so I could smell the frankincense and maybe turn to God in a new way, because things had been so tough for so many years. And later, after going to a restaurant and not even ordering a grilled cheese (I had changed my mind by that point and wanted a salad with falafel instead), she drove me back to her house and the air was coming in the open window and the sun was setting and the sky was pink.

Earlier this year I was talking to a yoga teacher about what I thought was my potential, and she didn’t really like what I was saying, and she told me that I needed to be more humble. And there was another time I was talking to a yoga teacher friend about humility, too, and it was the only time there was discord between us, because he, too, thought that maybe I was not so humble. And on both counts, I disagreed. So this term, “humble,” really deserves some attention.

I can have dreams, and know my worth, and speak my truth, and still be humble. Humility is not cowering down and curving your spine and thinking you’re shit, see. Because I am humble, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to birth my vision into the world—and it’s a big vision—and I know I am not shit. I know I am fucking awesome. I know that, and no one is going to convince me otherwise, no matter what happens. No matter what. Being awesome just doesn’t mean I end up making millions of dollars or having millions of friends, or being called some kind of “influencer” on some sort of social media platform, or having everything arrive at my door in a neat little package. Those things are kind of up in the air. There are a lot of people who rise to a level of social status and they ain’t worth their mustard. (Oh my God, I love mustard.) And I found my mustard right inside, without any of that, in pit after pit after pit of despair and awakening.

I know my worth. And my worth goes beyond money. Although money is nice. I love money the way I love grilled cheese. Actually, I love it more.

But not as much as God, see.

Some people kind of get jealous when a person is confident. Especially if that person is a woman. Please prove me wrong, because this is a terrible shame. Because I am, like, the nicest person in the world, and I just don’t know why someone would turn away from the nicest person in the world, unless they’ve crafted some weird story in their minds about what is the real motivation of nice people.

(Oh, and remember being nice doesn’t mean people get to step all over you.)

So let me get back to my English lesson on the word “humble.” To humiliate, or to be humiliated, is to humble, and humble comes from the Latin root “humus,” which means “earth.” And humiliation means “mortification,” which is about dying in some way.

So the act of humbling or humiliation is getting grounded, and it is about the death of the ego.

Instead of existing in your head, on some kind of ego trip, or in some story of who you are or your prominence in this world (whether that prominence is your status as victim or God), an event that humbles you takes you down into your body, kills off your pretty pictures and assumptions about socials status, and makes you remember who you are, makes you remember what matters, makes you remember what life is all about, see. It is not about elevating yourself over other people, or even undervaluing yourself, which is a form of pride, too. It is not about living in your mind at all, see. Humility, or an act of humiliation, reminds us we are all interconnected, and we are meant to take care of each other in this world, and offer what we have to one another. That is the fucking Christian message, and that is what it is supposed to be, and yet you have people who call themselves Christians worshiping assholes who care only about money and status and prestige and do this under the guise of some “pro-life” bullshit, acting like they’re all about the babies when they’re locking up parents instead of taking care of babies.

You want a piece of me? I got you. And here’s the other cheek, too. And once you get both cheeks, honey, I’ll plant a kiss on you that leaves a lipstick mark because I always like to leave a lipstick mark because I like people to know where I’ve been.

It is not easy to rise up from the rubble of this life, and move through your demons, and lift off of you the weight and heft of the Christian church, which has been built on telling people they are awful inside and must repent, which often makes beautiful, kind-hearted and underserved people feel like they are shit, and think that faith and love and Godliness only comes through a fucking whip, which is not what the Teacher taught, not in any fucking way.

And I’m not putting up with it anymore. I’m finding a new way to work with all of this.

There are really shitty people, and they step all over others, and they don’t care about other people’s needs, and they ignore a poor person who looks them in the eye and asks them for money—you can at least smile at the bugger!—and they think they are pleasing to God because they have a dick, or something, or they assume they know the higher hand, and those are the ones, oftentimes, who will tell you, especially if you’re a woman, Be humble. Those are the ones who will tell you, Step down, step back, bitch.

But my guy, the Guy who Always Has Me? (SexyJesus.) What does he say?

He says, “Talitha Koum,” he says Rise up, my sweet, He says, Don’t let those dickheads judge you, He says, Come sit with me and leave the dishes. He says, Blessed are those who have been outcast, beat-down, trampled on, talked to like shit, because those are the people who will know and see God. 

So when everything works out for you, my dear? When it all just magically fits into place and the hours of your day are accounted for and you rarely take any risks and you can’t see the opportunities for growth and life and abundance in spirit that are lying right at your fingertips, and you read the news and prefer to judge others and think your place in the world is neat and clean?

You are likely very far from God.

Maybe the best thing in the fucking world, my sweet, is when God the Master, the Divine Mother and Sensual Healer, smacks you over the head with a great big hammer, and opens your fucking eyes until you see stars, and yeah, maybe it’s time to get on your fucking knees and be thankful for what you have, and figure out what you can do to help other people, and stop sitting in your own world thinking only about what you consider your “tribe.” Maybe you need a bit of humiliation to tell you what’s what, to make you real again, to make you alive, to make you new, to die to that old business that has been haunting you and keeping you in a cage, and finally walk into a gorgeous life, which is the wealth and riches you have within you, and not only what you can get from other people but instead what you can do, how you can contribute, how you can deliver forth for someone else the resources you’ve been given.

That’s what.

 

 

Photo by Agnieszka M on Unsplash

Hold Your Own, Sweetness

I have this amazing friend who is kind, generous, and loyal in a way so few people are loyal. She is the woman who will always come to your rescue, who will always be there for you, who will stick by you no matter what crazy things you say or do in France, on the phone, in the summer, while driving through Aix en Provence looking for a bathroom.

And when you need her, she will pack her kids in the car and your kids in the car and cook people chicken nuggets or pizza, all while feeding a dog and answering emails for work and helping her daughter bake cupcakes.

There are not many people like that in this world, and if you find someone with that kind of loyalty and generosity and beauty, you don’t take it for granted, hear?

I’m not sure how she got the way she is, whether she learned how to be that way or if it’s just her essence, or both. But her mom let her down real bad when she was younger, because her mom got terribly sick and depressed, and couldn’t come out of it. Her mom was vibrant and gorgeous and smart as hell, but she didn’t have a lot of self-confidence, or a feeling of inner value, and she thought she was nothing without a man. And so her mom took her life when my friend was a teenager, and that left my amazing friend unmoored for a very long time, trying to make sense of life and love, trying to move on after experiencing the biggest abandonment of her life.

Women need strong mothers, and men need strong mothers, and so do little boys and little girls, too.

But we don’t really live in a world that honors and values strong mothers. And mothers are struggling, trying to figure out what to do.

We may pay motherhood lip-service. But put your money where your mouth is, America, and put your actions behind what you value, and you’ll see that our respect for mothers keeps coming up short, over and over again, in this large world. We don’t honor the brilliance and magnificence of a woman who grows a human being in her body and then pushes that creature out, and then gathers everything up and starts working at an office or running a business and cooking everyone dinner while her breasts are dripping.

Ya know?

But women, God bless them, keep choosing to have kids anyway. Women keep putting their families first. Women keep putting their needs on the back burner because they love so fiercely and so loyally that they don’t know any other way, and they navigate and dance in these two alternate worlds, and they try to find a way forward, and they’re the rocks holding up the foundation of our entire existence, and yet they get little or no recognition for all the power they have. They don’t ask for it, either. They just keep doing their duty, standing behind the scenes.

And it’s time, my friends, for mothers to rise up.

It’s time for mothers to own their own voices, and to own their own souls, and to stop prostituting their bodies and their dreams and their minds to the highest bidder, and to instead stand in the vitality and beauty of their essence and their power and know themselves well and fight for themselves and their daughters.

We can’t hand the world over to our daughters, the way it is now.

NoSiree. Nope. Not gonna have it.

And let me tell you the kind of world our daughters are seeing, if we women, we strong mothers, don’t start taking a stand.

1 in 5 women is raped. 1 in 3 women is a victim of sexual violence.

51% of women are raped by an intimate partner.

91% of victims of rape and sexual assault are female.

90% of sexual assault victims don’t report the assault.

And sons are victimized, too, and may have an even harder time reporting, because it is terribly uncool to be a vulnerable man.

Women walk around feeling, by the way, like their bodies are not their own, like they can’t own their words, that their purpose in even having a body and mind is to attract a man who will love and desire them. And men often believe this, too, even though they don’t want to, and even though they ache to see a woman they love not feel empowered or embodied.

Women give up, they give in, they hand so much of their power away. They don’t know how not to. They haven’t been effectively taught.

None of us, men or women, have witnessed enough mentors and models who have done anything different, and so we mimic and copy what we’ve seen and who we know, and we rarely take the time to uncover and live into the power inside us.

And a lot of our mothers have let us down.

They didn’t want to. They didn’t mean to. They just didn’t have the capacity to do any better. They didn’t have the time. They didn’t have the resources. They didn’t have the confidence. They didn’t grow up in a climate where other women and men would fight for them, because those women who needed to be a support system were maybe broke, or beaten, or trapped, or abandoned.

And so the only way forward, my friends, is for us women to become the mothers and the women we didn’t get to see. We need to embody the New Woman. This is not a woman who is imitating a man, or abiding stupid patriarchal ideas of worldly success.

Nah.

This Woman Just Is.

She is Mercurial. She is Bold. She is Full of flavor.

She is Brave. She is Outspoken. She is Deep and Wise.

This Woman has Substance.

This woman is not top-heavy, trying to intellectualize her life or yours, thinking her accolades are what makes her who she is. She is not the car she drives, the clothing store she shops at, the “diet” she’s on, the yoga poses she can do. She’s not sidetracked by stupid stuff.

She’s a Woman of Presence. 

She’s a Woman who walks in the room and makes everybody ponder, because they haven’t seen anything like this woman before.

She doesn’t play the game. She doesn’t listen to the rules.

She is her own, see.

She belongs to nobody else.

And yet, she loves wildly, freely, and is full of warmth.

She is shrewd when she needs to be, smarter than anybody knows. She’ll surprise you.

She is healthy, full of vitality.

She speaks with depth, her voice as rich as earth. She is egoless, yet filled with confidence and passion.

She does not sell any piece of herself to make a buck. She finds a way around that. Because baby, this woman has faith like you wouldn’t believe, and when you have faith, that mountain you’re looking at can fall right into the sea. There are no words called “boulders.”

This is the woman who creates the world my daughters are going to inherit. And I’m not looking for her to appear on my doorstep, or in the limelight, in the form of somebody else. This woman is me. She is me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me and me.

And I’m not limiting myself for anyone. I’m not curtailing my dreams or my essence to please any fucking person or group of people. Because I know who I am.

And damn, I am so full of love and abundance.

I’m so hot you may be scared to touch me.

But I don’t hurt. I don’t bite.

I’m practically God incarnate.

Remove the practical.

And I embody this in every space I walk into, not out of anger, or egomania. I simply inhabit me. Not someone’s idea of me. Not the rules of who I’m supposed to be. Just me.

Brilliant, wise, bold.

Jana. That’s spelled J-A-N-A.

And this body, honey? It’s mine. It’s mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.

This is what I’m teaching to boys and to girls, about themselves, about the power they have within them.

You should, too.

 

Photo by guille pozzi on Unsplash

Cracking the Whip

C’mon, baby.

I want to break you down.

I want to show you what love is.

This is how the dance goes.

We move together. We slide. We slither. Everything is going well.

But then, for some reason, you get a little doubt inside, and you move away from me. The music stops, mid-flow.

What happened to you, darling?

You started getting in your head, didn’t you?

You started thinking too much. You started getting a visit from the devil. Ugh, that fuck.

And now you’re walking away. Now you’re all full of poison. Fear. Lots and lots of fear.

Opposite of faith, hon.

All of life is a game. The trick is how we play.

It could be so, so fun.

It was going to be.

But now you’ve gone and ruined it, and I had to stop my music mid-step.

I really hate when people make me stop playing my music.

That really fucking pisses me off.

So now, I’m just going to have to get out my whip.

It will only hurt a little.

Actually, I’m lying. It’s gonna bruise.

But sometimes a bruise is the only thing that wakes a fucker up, you know?

This’ll be more than a bruise, actually. I think I’ll need to break a little skin.

The reason I’m doing this, honey, is that there seems to be no other way to get your attention.

The reason I’m doing this, is that you don’t even know what you’re made of, and you need me to show you.

I don’t think you know what you need.

But I do.

So feel my whip.

Smack.

It feels like hard rain on you, doesn’t it?

Smack.

It’s getting you into this really dark, powerless place.

Smack.

Is that a hiccup, or a scream? Let me hear it.

Smack.

Ooh, tears. Now we’re talking.

Yeah.

That’s what I was waiting for.

Let ’em out, darling.

This is where they need to go. Out. You don’t want all that good, clean juice stuck inside.

I needed to see you feel something.

You needed a li’l experience to get you out of your mind.

Hmmm. Good.

That’s real good, honey.

Now we’re talking.

Let me hold you.

Do you see who’s boss, sweet? Mm? Do you see?

Let me take your sweet hand in mine. Let me rub it.

What I like to do is get you real low.

Real. Fucking. Low.

I get you so low, so empty, you feel like there’s nothing left. You feel like you have nothing in you.

And then I crack the whip some more.

That’s because there’s still more in there. There’s still more you didn’t know. But I know.

And so we’re going to keep up this game, these dramatics, until you get real empty inside, real free of all the bullshit you’ve been carrying for many, many years.

Nasty thoughts, ridiculous ideas. Memories that are holding you back. Assumptions about your own measure of control. Ingratitude. Entitlement. Objectifying other people. Denying your own and others’ innate humanity.

Ugh. That stuff was ugly.

Yeah, sweet.

Here it comes, here it pours.

Cleanse, cleanse, cleanse. 

Heal.

This is what I do, honey.

Good boy.

Now.

All clean?

Let’s check.

Mmm. Yep. Good.

Let’s begin again. Let’s start anew.

Wake the fuck up, gorgeous.

Stand.

Move.

Roll your spine all the way up.

Rise.

We did all that good work. I got you real nice and pure. Let’s start dancing again. Let’s see how this goes.

‘Cause now, I think, you know a little better. Now you’re a better version of yourself. You just needed a little reminder of who’s in charge. You just needed a little clearing up. Now I think you get it.

You’ll probably fuck up again, dear. Keep swaying your hips, don’t stop. Fucking up is how you roll. But I’m always here, baby. And I always carry my whip. I know how to fix things.

Capiche?

Good.

Now.

Let’s move. Let’s sway.

You take a step, I take a step.

Back and forth.

This is how the universe works. And you’re just a part. Not the whole damn thing, see.

And we play. It’s so fun. And sometimes, we just sit back and watch each other. That part’s fun, too.

But this time, darling? This time there’s no walking away. This dance is going to continue.

Got it?

Good.

Show me what you’re made of.

I really want to see.

 

Photo by Levi Midnight on Unsplash

Your Goodness Makes You Sexy

It was last year when I started doing some serious investigative work on sexiness, on what makes a person sexy. This was after I came to Jesus (come being the operative word), and started asking him some questions, started sorting through the muck we’d been taught for a hell of a long time about what sex means to people.

I discovered a lot of things, so many that I’m going to write them all in a book, but I’ll give you a little sneak peak at some of my understandings.

This problem of shame and guilt around sex goes way back, and it affects us all, whether you grew up in a Christian household or not. We live in a Puritan-based society, you see, and the founding of any organization or structure is pulsing with the energy of those who put it together. So if we operate within this Puritan-founded framework, we’re all kind of screwed when it comes to loving our bodies and loving other people by loving their bodies and thinking that this can all be well and good. Because we’ve been penetrated with a hard-hitting belief, for a very long time, that says sex is dirty, sex is wrong, it’s the kind of thing that happens only in the darkness of night and is a shadow part of the self, that we must be quiet about it, that we must put up with our desire but not indulge it, that we are just kind of messed up people and the way to know God is to avoid having a body and having sex or experiencing pleasure and orgasm.

Right?

I mean, am I right, or am I right?

And so what I’m trying to tell you is, this is bogus. 

How did I find this out?

I fucking asked. I fucking went searching. I fucking prayed long and hard and turned to Jesus every fucking day. Because I am a sensual person, and I love sex, and if my teacher is Jesus himself (and not those cronies who say they’re all about him but are really full of ego and lies), then let me ask Jesus himself, who is available to me in every fucking moment of every fucking day, and who is the Truth of All Things, and who is the Love and the Light and the Most Extreme Holiness There Ever Was. Let me go right to the fucking Source with my questions and see what he has to say.

So I started reading the Bible, which really hurt my head at first, but stuff got in, and I kept coming back for more, because confusion makes you worthy, babe. Confusion is a good place to start, as long as you’re not a dumbass. A dumbass gets confused and walks away. A Smart Person gets confused and decides to stay and learn.

So sit down. Shut up. Take out a pen.

Nowhere in the actual gospels does Jesus say sex is wrong. Nowhere does he say, either, that you ought to be married in order to have sex. I’m telling you, honey, go and look. Read it all through. Read the other gospels, too, the one by Mary Magdalene that got buried, and the one by Thomas, which is really beautiful and elevates Jesus in a way that helps you know even better why he is supreme. I want you to comb through these passages again and again, and see if you denote any single part where Jesus says you are unworthy. (You won’t find it.) Any part where Jesus says there is shame in sexiness. (You won’t find any part, and in fact, I’ll share with you some juicy tidbits.) Any part where Jesus says you shouldn’t feel good in your body, or that pleasure is something to be avoided. (Very hard no in all of these areas.)

The problem is, Jesus has been filtered through a bunch of assholes. A lot of assholes with a lot of desire for power and money and control have taken over his name, and use it widely as though it protects them from all wrongs, and those of us who are sensitive and kind and true start thinking Jesus is the problem and not the assholes who pretend to love and follow him. And so the whole situation is really distorted.

Jesus is my Teacher, my Healer, the one who loves me and who I love. SexyJesus, that is. Because he embodies what I think is most sexy in the world: goodness, kindness, generosity. Jesus embodies great conversation, and maturity, and brilliance. Jesus embodies non-judgment of other people, and helping the poor, and forgiveness. And, ding ding ding, Jesus really, really loves women. Like, really. I mean, there is story upon story of him defending women, lifting women up. So any man who say he follows Jesus and does not lift women up? That man is not following Jesus. He is just being a liar, or a dumbass. And remember, we don’t listen to dumbasses. They are not worth our time or energy. Let’s turn again, and constantly, to what is real and true.

Sexyness. Goodness. All in one beautiful package.

There is nothing shameful about this. There is nothing wrong.

Now, what’s wrong is to use another person for your own ends. So when Jesus, my Lord, says that you need to love your neighbor as yourself, which is his greatest and main commandment, what we need to acknowledge is that sex is a vehicle through which you express love. See how this works? So Jesus was never all into laws and into authority figures. He was like, totally against hotheads and egotistical maniacs. (He is just so amazing it makes me all gooey.) But he was and is about loving people.

So if you love someone, and you want to express that through physical affection?

You really think that Holy Man is gonna say, Um, no. Listen to Paul.

Right?

I mean, right?

Can I get an amen, baby. Yeah, I thought so.

Paul is not Jesus, Paul came after, a bunch of old rigid yucky men (maybe not all yucky, I don’t really know) put his letters into the Bible and called them “sacred words” and then forgot to hold up what is right and true, which is what Jesus said and says. Paul is just a community organizer, a politician, a guy trying to be a follower, just like me or you. That’s it, baby. That’s all. He is not the One True. So his interpretation of events in that bygone era is not the language we must hold fast and true to today, in a new time. His interpretation was filtered through a lot of things we don’t always entirely know, because a lot of things went missing, a lot of things got burned, a lot of what early Christianity was all about got lost, and we are meant to uncover and revive what works for our people today.

Jesus still works. SexyJesus is still all-consuming and abundantly true. It’s just that we turn away from him because we’re scared of the evil people who have abused his good name. But don’t let them dissuade you. I’m here to tell you that I’ve done the work, asked the hard questions, focused on these questions in meditation two times a day, worked and worked and worked at this, and He is True, and He is Right, and sex is not so black and white as the Christian leaders have made it out to be. It is not wrong or shameful. It is really beautiful, and there is a lot to unpack and learn about it, because unfortunately we haven’t had any spiritual leaders take this on. We’ve only had them ignore it or pay lip-service to some shit Paul said, and do awful things in dark corners and cover it up. And we need people, good, sane, kind, loving and brave people, to take this topic on. To read and pursue truth. To meditate, to walk with God about it, to answer the call.

The most important thing you can do in this life, honey, is answer the call.

Then God, Your Divine Mother, will take care of you. Always.

So. Go exploring, if you dare. See what Jesus actually said. And note how many times women are doting all over him, too. Women who kiss his feet in front of everyone, they’re so adoring of his goodness. When a man is that tried and true to you, you don’t care who is watching, you just go down on him. His feet, I’m saying. And also, women who want to just rest by his side and listen to his words, listen to him talk, hear everything he has to say. And women who cry and are so upset because other men have been mean to them, and Jesus puts those men in their place, and challenges them to look at their own faults, and kisses that woman on the cheek and shows her how special and beautiful she is, and how she doesn’t need to worry anymore because now she has him. And women—well, one very special and saucy woman, booyah!—who comes into a room full of men with a fire in her eyes and pours myrrh all over SexyJesus’s hair and washes him with it and lets it drip from her fingers and his tendrils, and he just rests his head back and enjoys, and lets her, because he knows God’s love is not just about giving, but also about receiving.

Ah, the glory of the divine.

I have some myrrh if you want to smell it.

What makes you sexy is your goodness, or that’s at least what it should be, if we didn’t live in such a sick society. And sex is a perfectly normal expression of love. (Use protection and all that, too, there is so much more to say, see above, re: Jana’s book.) But really, Jesus never said a priest was more important than him, or a priest or pastor knew any better than he did. I mean, let’s get real. Jesus said, Love your neighbor as yourself, and he said, Eat with people and celebrate my body (body! see!) and blood. I am in all things. 

Your lover is your incarnate divine. When love is present, sex is holy. Real love, I’m talking about. Love that’s true.

Again, I must impress upon you, that I’m not talking about sex where you don’t care about the other person and all you’re focused on is your own ego and pleasure, and you use people like they’re objects, as a means to an end, and you have no idea how to love a person. That shit is just wrong. If you’re doing that, stop it.

More on all of this to come.

Oh, so much coming is about to happen.

 

Photo by Robert Nyman on Unsplash

You Can’t Know What You Know Before You Know It: Relationship Lessons from a Yogini

“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” –Maya Angelou

“Boss up and change your life. You can have it all, no sacrifice.” –Lizzo

 

When someone is not right for you, he or she will show you that again and again through actions.

I don’t care what this person says, or what story you have in your head about how the whole relationship is going to work, or can work, or could work. You gotta lose the storyline, the hopes, the dreams, the fantasies that are keeping you in a backwards place without the spitball of fire to help you get out. You gotta lose the addiction, honey. I’m talking here, about the difference between addiction and love.

You can love people in all kinds of ways. Your heart is so tender and mushy and soft and cuddly, and it can love pretty much anyone you come into contact with, if you give it enough time and you’re hungry enough for affection. I’m not saying you have to guard your heart; I’m just telling you you also have to listen to your higher mind, too. And your gut. And your body. And not just the sex parts of your body that want to feel good. I’m talking about your body being in a constant state of disappointment, or limbo, which shows you that someone is just no good for you, and doesn’t deserve your time or energy. But you keep on keeping on because you are a good, kind person, and you have such imagination, and you’re used to being attracted to what you can’t have, and you think if you can nail this thing, if you can crack the code, everything will work out and life will be so much better.

That is addiction, my friend. It’s not a relationship. It can’t ever ever ever be a partnership. So let go.

Sydney, I’m talking to you.

But do what you want, friend.

Getting back, the way God works, is that when you follow Her, she will show you that you don’t actually have to make any sacrifices for anything you deep-down want. We think we have to make sacrifices and have to take only breadcrumbs because we don’t deserve more, or we’ve lived a life where we’re generous and kind and giving and it’s second-nature to just give it all away and not expect anything in return. That’s really sweet and awesome, but there’s a layer of ego to that, too. Because God wants you to practice receiving, not just giving. God says, Hey, you’re awesome and delightful, but you’re not God. So sit back for once and let other people take care of you. See how that feels. Do you know that other people like to do some caretaking too? That actually makes good people happy, to give. They love doing it. They have so much inside they just want to pour it out, and they need a worthy receptacle. Ever think you might be helping them out when you let them?

I don’t know, maybe God says something like that, you see.

Enduring Love is not here one day, out the next. Enduring Love, the kind of love you’re supposed to have, is not like walking on pointy rocks, tiptoeing around. The love you were made for, and the love God wants for you, is like walking barefoot on the sand. It feels good, pretty much all the time. There are occasional bumps and an occasional horsehoe crab you have to walk around, but mostly, your feet on the sand feels great. So choose the person who makes you feel awesome, who it feels awesome to be with, and not the person who is half-in, half-out, a person who is a project, a person who lets you down again and again.

Sometimes it’s really hard to tell what temptation is and what the real thing is. I know this well. And in reality, I’ll say, it’s probably impossible to avoid temptation altogether. We have to go through the shadows to get into clarity. It’s just part of the game. There are tunnels in this life, times of confused understanding. They happen over and over, because you can’t always know what’s to come or what you should do. That’s why you give it up, give it over, pray, talk, ask, get help, and go deep into silence when you need to. That’s how you discern. Don’t judge yourself for moments of temptation, or for not knowing what temptation is. Just pray through it. Breathe. Have faith you’ll get to the other side.

I’ve gotten to the other side so many times, and I’ve gone through those knots of confusion and misery, but man, do they get so much easier to move through. They only last me a couple of days now, and I see that life is a constant dying and being resurrected, because if you are to evolve and grow, you are going to spend a lifetime understanding night and day, the sun and the moon. There is no way around being human. You can’t just skip it. So you either block off your heart, or you keep getting stabbed, or you keep making a new way with the tools you’ve acquired, a way that’s going to fulfill you and please and delight you and help you be whole.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to do that with?

I think so.

Now, people, bookmark motherjanacoaching.com to find out about all the special events I have coming up, one for single people who want to do better in the playground of love. On Valentine’s Day, no less! And one on Feb. 8 for couples who want to work on intimacy in time for the big V-day. My best friend Katie is going to help me run that one, because she’s the sister I never had. More details coming soon.

Be wise, peeps!

I’m out!

Hugs.

 

Photo by Khadeeja Yasser on Unsplash