Radiant Regression

Many have sought the fountain of youth... and many have claimed it's location, or what it is.  I can tell you right now it is 3 things:

• Good health
• Joy
• Great Sex

Now this last one shall be the focus for this blog.  But first... a wee bit of background. 

The fountain of youth is one that many have within their DNA - they don't age, or they age well.  Their spirit is free and they seem to have a glowing radiance to their entire being.  These people, male and female do somethings in common though.  They eat when happy, and are happy with what they eat.  They are well hydrated and practice a form physical expression welcoming to their soul.  They can easily laugh, and enjoy life.  Often they have wonderfully fulfilling sex lives connecting to their mate on a level above that of physical carnage.  It is common for people like this to hear the phrase "what is your secret", "you skin is so radiant", "wow you are sexy for your age". 

Our society is age focused... yet by prosthetics, not by nature.  As many vegans and vegetarians may also have a more youthful appearance, it is not always the case.  Any person who is in joy, love, and acceptance of their life and who they are will have this.  So long as they nourish their body, mind, heart, and soul as one unit.

In my case, the fountain of youth is predominantly hydration and the orgasm.  In the last 3 years I have been researching tantric sex, and sacred unions where by the physical bodies ignite the energy source of sex, and use this to heal themselves or our world.  Yet, it is also a means to send loving energy to ever cell of our body... while alone.  I have an extreme fear of motherhood.  I mean so much so as it would be categorized as a psychological phobia.  Yet in working with my own experience, I want to connect to someone energetically, while pleasing myself physically.  Welcome to the concept of energy sex.  This is not new, and may be coined as astral sex, or etheric union, but what I do with this concept is connect to someone who has consented to be with me at this time, in mind, emotion and spirit.  With the eyes closed the individual connects to their own body.

Now, relating this to turning back time.  The orgasm has regeneration properties.  Women especially have the ability, when in joy and pleasure, to assist in their partners transformation and regeneration.  But men, who connect to their feminine aspect will also have this power with their mate.  As it is the divine feminine who is charged with creation and renewal - giving birth to new cells, and aura.  On a physical level, the skin will reduce fine lines and puffiness related to stress, and hormonal changes.  This glow allows for the body to feel the energy or blood flow, bringing nourishment to the cells - I have witnessed this happen with me within 48 hours of having a good orgasm. 

It is no secret that I plan on stopping me age with every turn, but it is not just to appear desirable (though that is an aspect) it is so that I may live longer, healthier, and happier to accomplish what I have wanted to accomplish.  I used to suffer from chronic back pain due to mild arthritis in my upper spine.  But after being found, again, by someone I have also found that our connection does more for me than just turn me on, it turns my cells back.  As this was confirmed by a platonic friend who has known me for a couple of years, thinking I was 15-20 years younger than my chronological age.

With this blessing, I am naturally defined in the dating community as a cougar, as I do prefer younger men... but not because of youth but energy.  Yet, it is not just the age that draws me to them, but their confidence, energy, personal power and most of all maturity.  Yes I would happily join the ranks of JLo, Madonna and Janet Jackson, and Demi Moore in my ability to attract the younger men... but know, it is not something that should be envied... but copied - emulated.  And I don't mean women dating younger men, but the radiant joy and health and confidence that these women have to be able to do so.

As a woman, I will say that every woman has the power to turn back the clock, and restore their sexual prowess.  All we have to do is make sure we are taken care of, by taking care of ourselves. This may mean that at times we "ride the pony".  I will not disclose the exact age I am in this post, but trust I look like the image on this profile, and yet am much older.

Youth no longer has to be wasted on the young... time we restore it to where it belongs, to the eternal radiant glow of humanity; one person at a time.

~ Written by Arthena Sophia~
www.facebook.com/arthena.aradhana

For more information about the power and healing of the orgasm, please visit this page:
" http://www.sensualtigerholisticarts.com/the-healing-power-of-the-orgasm.html "

Anna's Story

Part 1 - INCOMING

I was standing by the sink in the small kitchen of my condominium waiting for my husband to come home.  My mind was blank and I was joyously washing dishes from the meal I had just prepped for both of us.  You see, Dorian and I had a rough start, and I found it best to communicate on days like this after a quiet meal giving him time to be.  This is our second year anniversary as a married couple, and we are not one for pomp and circumstance, yet I took today off to make all of his favourites. 

Now the strange thing was not so much the day, as it was like any other, except that today, Dorian was laid off, and we really were both in no mood to celebrate anything.  As I stood there washing glass, utensils, and mixing bowls, I heard a rumbling outside.  I stopped washing dishes and walked out onto the balcony.  I looked up to find that the clouds had changed from a light gray overcast to a full fluffy dark and light clouds.  This meant a storm was coming.  I prayed in that moment for my husband to come home soon, so that we may enjoy the falling rains together.  After a few moments of this thought, the rumbling did not stop.  It is normal for me to hear an airplane overhead, especially during a summer overcast evening.  I started to feel anxious, as though what I was listening to, was not an airplane.

Above me was a cloud which appeared almost circular, and what seemed to be a triangular form appeared.  I was so transfixed that my eyes did not move away, for I felt if this was a hallucination, it was really good; yet if this was real, no way in hell was I going to forget this.  During the time of the objects decent, I did not hear my spouse enter our apartment.  As he called after me, I heard nothing.  But he has told me that when he went to check the balcony, I was hovering 7 feet from the ground, and ascending higher as though I was part of a magicians levitation trick.  He was terrified, and decided to walk onto the balcony to see what was happening.  When he looked up, he saw what he now describes as a mother ship spacecraft and once he touched my hand, the hold that the craft had on me released me.

I remember returning to consciousness on the sofa with a cool cloth on and a blanket over me.  Dorian had then told me I had a fever of 104 and was worried.

When I was cleaning dinner it was 5:13 pm, and now it was 2:47 am.  The only thing I remember from the experience is what I shared, and a wonderful surrender of peace.
~ ~ ~
(** This is a fictitious story. Any similarities to any person alive or dead is purely coincidental. **)

Hermitting Among Trees

I have city sickness.


This is a mental disorder not yet published by psychologists or persons within the mental health research facilities.  It exhibits as Anthropophobia (yet I am not afraid), and depression, and anxiety.  Yet I have a strong pull to be in nature - an even stronger aversion to be away from people.

I love the sun, and the river, and the wild life, and the trees... oh the trees.  I love dirt under my feet and the breeze in my hair.  Yet I strongly, and with great passion, detest people.  I spend hours during sunny days in my apartment, wishing I could live in the open air, and far far away from any living person.  I dream of isolation and the quiet of the machines as I sit by the moving water and allow the forest to embrace me.

There are days when I am able to handle the urban jungle, and my interactions with the human race that dwells around me.  But their music, chatter of things that don't matter, loud machines, and ignorance really gets to me at times.  I would score high on depression tests, and even in need with anger management intervention.  But these are just symptoms.  I am suffering at the hands of capitalism - in a way much greater than most talk about.

I don't like people.  At the core, I would drop a bomb on us all.  We are selfish, cruel, greedy, insecure, arrogant, and evil creatures.  Yes I am aware of the few or many who are beautiful spirits... but not around me, and lately, not within me.

I fantasize about mass attacks, chaos, anarchy and I pray for it's arrival.  I pray for the shit to kick humanity in the ass so hard that there is rectal bleeding, and the only way to survive it is to take away our need for greed.  Remove the cement and steel and live the way we were supposed to.  With the trees in the forests, jungles, and among the meadows and fields.

these are the symptoms I experience. If you have them too, know you are not alone:

• Depression
• Anger
• Anxiety
• Hopelessness
• Lethargy
• Drastic Appetite Changes
• Sleep Disturbances
• Low Sex Drive
• Anti Social Behaviour
• Isolation
• Inability to maintain or gain meaningful relationships
• Lack of focus
• Strong Dreams/Fantasies
• Yearning to go into a people free forest
• Skin Eruptions
• Breathing Disorders 
• Extreme Loneliness

Now this is not a complete list, and having any of these on their own is not indicative of City Sickness.  This is simply what I have been suffering from for the last 2 years, and it is getting worse.  I am not a doctor, but I do hope a doctor or medical student sees this, and learns about Urban Illnesses on Mental Health.  I feel that there is not secular illnesses anymore, but rather these are symptoms of a much larger problem.

What I propose, is that there be an organization put in place to raise money so that those with City Sickness gain access to people-less areas to reconnect to their soul, to their very being while here.  Say even mini cabins are built about half a kilometer away from one another in a large park or forest on private property so that those like me may go in isolation of other people and reconnect to the humane part of being human.


~ A soul entry of Arthena Sophia

Illusions

We love our stories.
We love the villains and heroes and characters that meld and blend the tale told to entertain, inspire, and even frighten us.  Yet why?
Why do we enjoy being lied to, being deluded, being mislead, or even spoon fed a version of life much more comfortable?

I shall speculate it is because we were held in such low opinion that we could not handle the truth, without doing something to change it. 

In order to continue our joy of story telling, we take on roles, within another's story.  Now, sometimes our stories have morals, and codes to live by; and at other times they are warnings or threats.  Our entire species in enthralled with these tall tales that we have lost our own way, as a people, to face the truth.  Yet what is the truth? But another story we tell ourselves.  Truth is not objective or part of the omnipresent plan of being.  It is subjective.  It's relevance and resonance dependent on the stories that surround our experience. 

Each day we face a mirror, or reflection and we create a story of why we look the way we do, why our skin is clear or obscured, why our hair is shiny or greying, why our face does or does not reflect back how we feel we do indeed look.  Our mind continuously creates the narrative of our existence, and shapes our vision, our being, and our expression of this self within a vessel of flesh.  Our being is so caught up in illusion that we mask our feelings, our intentions and sometimes, our self; just so that another may accept us better.

These masks worn by us each day, tell ourselves, and those around us, who we are at each moment, and sometimes, to present to the world a much more interesting version of our self.  Yet what if we are boring, or pretentious, or downright miserable - is it possible to still be accepted?  It is likely not the case. Sadly our world is bent on happiness, love, joy and grace that we step back from the ugly, the horrific, the terrible, and the agitating.  We have run so far away from our shadow that it is growing greater than our very essence of being.  Yet to stand in a mirror naked and look into ones own soul, ones own magnificence seems to be painful.  Our soul is perfect. Our minds, emotions, and physical expression of this incarnation at times is not; we are flawed.

So why are we here?
Many may speculate we are here as God learning to experience itself.  Others may say we are a being of light here to experience the feelings of the human vessel.  Still a few might say we are here simply to be here.  It doesn't matter, not really.  For what ever reason we hold onto, or resonate with it is a story.  Stories are made of words, and while we exist in physical form, we do require a way to express our selves through words.  Yet why do we speak? Why do we bother communication our thoughts when sometimes, or many times, our words are misconstrued as another's lie. 

Let's say tomorrow, you do not wear a mask, you apply no make up, you leave your hair in a natural state, and keep the slimming colours and garments in the drawer to be brave enough to leave the house as YOU.  What would happen? What COULD happen?  What story will you share as to why you allow your acne to be seen, or the workouts you didn't do to be known?  What lies will you believe just to have a comfortable existence?

No one is without flaws.  Everyone has stories they must subscribe to, or else their sanity is lost, or perhaps their own opinion of themself has no merit.  Is the ego attached to a story? When we dissolve the ego do we lose the story, or simply another illusion to attach to?

 

I wonder what kind of world we would have if there were no words.  I will let you create a story about that.

 

~by Arthena Sophia Aradhana
www.facebook.com/arthena.aradhana

** Image courtesy of: beyondmasquerade.com