FBSM « The Dakini Chronicles

I don’t (quite) consider myself a Tantric Dakini, although I do have alot of respect for the community.
Here’s a great article with a no bullshit perspective on this world.

-Anasta

The Tantric Dakini. As sacred sexuality bubbles to the surface of modern erotic culture and more woman chose the path of spiritual sex work in the name of the divine, this catch phrase is beginning to make Backpage headlines and viral Facebook memes.

Calling oneself a “Tantric Dakini” is a badge of honor worn by women who work as sensual healers and muses in the Western sacred sexuality industry. She practices meditation, breath work and yoga inspired from ancient spiritual cultures with a New Age twist. Images of Shiva and Shakti are plastered on her walls like pop star idols. She purrs through her daily practice of pelvic curls and wiggles during Vipassana to adjust her jade egg situated up her vaginal canal. There is a glow about her because her kundalini flows effortlessly during yab yum and on the dance floor. She is a sexy yogini, dedicated to her path of reclaiming divine pleasure through the art of conscious loving and has been known to chant Sanskrit mantras when she orgasms.

There are plenty of courses you can take to be trained and certified as a Tantric Dakini in a matter of a weekend, IF you have a thousand dollars or so stashed under your bed (she prefers to call her bed an “alter to love”). But no training, guru, text book or thousand dollar piece of certified paperwork can transform you into a Dakini over night.

The Dakini is a force that resides deep in her soul memory begging to come out. When she goes to her first Tantric Puja at the yoga studio in Marin and stands eye to eye with a creepy grey haired man who is breathing onion mouth in her face something wakes up inside her precious yoni heart. She remembers. She sees this man as an embodiment of God Himself. She loves him unconditionally. Her eyes brim with tears, places her hand over his heart chakra and blesses him with her presence and holy love. He starts convulsing, hears angels singing in his ears and falls to the floor on his knees kissing her feet.

The trademarked practices the Western Tantra teacher is offering in the workshop gives voice to what she has naturally been doing all her life. Consciously moving energy with her breath, healing those around her with her touch and embracing the grace of divinity itself at the peak of orgasm as kundalini sparkles shoot out the top of her head when she comes, even though no clothes came off. Over time she guided her male lovers and consorts on how to hold his seed, make love to her for hours on end without ejaculating, and helped him find that sacred spot inside her pussy temple that when massaged just right makes her squirt all over the bed…soaking it.

She has an epiphany one day. She has found her gift. Her purpose in this world. She quits her job as a waitress, sets up a massage table in her dining room, lights some candles and incense and hangs her virtual shingle on the prostitution website message board as a Tantric Dakini for hire. Full body sensual massage is her cover, but once the client walks through the door he is in for a surprise. He is about to be touched by a Goddess.

Finally she has found a vocation that will pay the bills and allow her to eat out at raw food restaurants on a daily basis. But no matter how proud she may be of her new line of work most people don’t understand it. She teams up with a small group of other Dakini’s for support, but when she mentions the “T” word in public she gets tarred and feathered. She is faced with misperceptions, judgements, name calling, and frustrating assumptions. Everyone wants to know what a Tantric Dakini actually does…

What my friends think I do…

My friends think that I spend my time at all girl Tantric orgies with neutered man servants as we gorge ourselves on amirta cocktails.

What my mom thinks I do…

My mom still thinks that I am a yoga instructor working at an all girl therapeutic massage studio. She doesn’t understand why I work the night shift.

What society thinks I do…

Sex work, no matter how much new age spiritual fluff we try to dress it up with, is still sex work.

What my clients think I do…

Clients assume I will dress up like Cleopatra for a game of role playing, do anal, feed him grapes from my cleavage and allow him to “worship my Goddessness” with his tongue.

What I think I do…

A picture speaks a thousand words. This is my intention at least.

What I actually do…

Get up at 8am to post ads on the internet, tweak my text and get frustrated that another massage ho stole my tagline but is charging half as much, sit by the phone for thirteen hours a day waiting for calls to come in, lay around in my pajamas wasting my time on Facebook making silly meme photos in Keynote, read the Dakini Chronicles for shits and giggles, and once I finally decide to hit up Cafe Gratitude for lunch and am walking out the door a client calls and wants to see me in five minutes because he is waiting down the street and needs to get back to work for a meeting so I rush back inside, work my magic, blow his mind, educate him about non-ejaculatory orgasms, provide a happy ending anyways, ring my Tibetan singing bowls, kiss him on his brow, usher him out the door and decide to have Thai food delivered so I can spend the rest of the day in my pajamas on Facebook so I don’t miss another call.

Well, now you know the truth. Don’t assume all Tantric Dakini’s are like this. It’s simply how it worked for me.

P.S. Join my fan page on Facebook. It’s almost like laying in our pajamas together on my bed.

xox ~Miss Scarlet

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via FBSM « The Dakini Chronicles.

February 23, 2012 | Categories: sacred sexuality | Leave a comment