Venus and Her Lover

by Becca Tzigany

  Kali identified Venus’ appearance immediately. “Very good, very good. You call up your Venus. Excellent tactic!” Now Kali moved her lance down my body, sticking me in the belly. “Why so tight here?” the Dark Goddess asked. “Afraid of losing control... of him? Of your relationship? Are you too dependent on him?”

  Entertaining her questions, I could not answer.

  “Breathe!” she commanded. “Open your belly! Open your breathing!”

  As I took deep breaths, her lance moved again, stopping at my crotch. I felt the prick of the point at my yoni. “Aren’t you feeling rather insecure in your sexuality?” she probed. “After all, since menopause, your libido has abandoned its post. Your whole identity is tied up in your sexual power, oh high and mighty Aphrodite!” Kali leered at me, speaking Venus’ name like a curse.

  “No, not anymore!” I protested. “I am more than my body. I am learning to expand my loving – Ouch!” Kali jabbed me again, bringing tears to my eyes. The idea of the sharp point at my yoni sent a wave of panic through me.

  “Yeah, right,” she said. “And how long has it been since you and James have made love?”

  “Weeks,” I whimpered, beginning to cry.

  “Weeks upon weeks!” Kali corrected, poking me for emphasis.

  “But we were playing tag with the flu, so we had to keep our distance from each other. He got sick, then I got sick, then – Ouch!” The lance had found a knot of pain in me and would not move an inch until I accepted it.

  Through tears, I blubbered, “But we should never have lost intimacy! You’re right. But look – I started pleasuring myself again. I realized that the responsibility for my orgasms rests with me. And the Coterie – my energy does flow with my lovers.”

  Kali withdrew her blade, but I still felt pain in my yoni. “Touché!” she said. “Just mind that you don’t fall back into lazy habits. Your yoni has a long memory, and a long, unexamined history.”

  “Yes, Kali, you’re right. Please help me,” I prayed.

  “What do you think I’m doing here? I am, in reality, answering your prayers.”

  I thought of my daily affirmation, I am a channel for unconditional love. As if underscoring the point, the goddess’s lance now jabbed my heart.

  “Ow!” I screamed. “Kali, watch it!”

  “I am watching it. I am watching you learn about unconditional love, a high ideal you declare all the time. How spiritual of you! Well dearie, unconditional love includes Daphne, ya know. Oh, and it includes Saddam Hussein and George Bush, too. And it includes yourself, and...”

  “I get your point, literally,” I said, trying to back off her spear from my heart.

  She would not loosen her grip, however. “Open!” she jabbed it deeper. “Open your heart!”

  “I am trying, Kali!” I remonstrated. “I’m trying. But I’m so tired, and sometimes it feels like too much, being a mom and trying to be clear enough to write, and all my responsibilities and financial worries. And now this – James bringing another lover in and I don’t even know her, and...”

  Then I noticed Kali did not seem to be listening. With one hand the multi-armed goddess still held the sharp lance at my heart, and with another hand, she had skewered each one of my flimsy arguments onto a different spear, and was roasting them over her charnel fires. As the arguments of my recent subliminal monologue spilled out of me, she grabbed each one like some poor wiener at a Sunday afternoon barbecue. When they were sizzling, she popped them into her mouth. Licking her lips, revealing that terrible smile, Kali turned away from me.

  As if her lance had been holding me up, when she withdrew it, I crumbled in a heap at her feet. “Kali,” I whimpered. “Thank you. Please give me strength.”

  Wheeling around, she lunged at me with her lance, impaling me in the stomach. I gasped.

  “Breathe!” she commanded me. “Are you weak? Is this too much for you? Is it overwhelming, more than you can handle? Eh, Ms. Venus? Remember where your power comes from!” Then as Kali withdrew her lance, I took a deep breath and felt a warmth spread from the center of my belly. I looked up to see her terrible smile and then gazed into the black pools of her eyes, infinite wells of love. Her image began to fade. The warm feeling emanated to my chest – my heart expanded – as well as to my yoni, which throbbed and sobbed. Waves of energy rolled through me, lapping at my brain, and caressing my feet. Each wave sent relaxation through me. My fingers tingled. I could feel my grip loosen, my need to control the situation dissolve, like a sand castle that, wave by wave, is dismantled on the beach, until there are stretches of smooth sand as far as the eye can see.

  Change or Die

  The destructive friction between men and women –

  our failure to attain a mature communion –

  may underlie the various global political and socioeconomic crises afflicting our world. It may be that we cannot resolve the larger conflicts around us until we reweave the fabric of our intimate lives, finding the courage to admit our deceptions and release our delusions, forgiving ourselves and our partners.

  ~ Daniel Pinchbeck

  Kali’s visitation did much to help me get my stride in the quickly evolving situation. As Valentine’s Day approached, I tended to preparations for a special dance at Trance Liberation, which we dedicated to spiritual love, calling it “Love Beyond Romance.”

  Son Alex came home from school one day wanting to talk. He held papers in his hands. “Mom, the IPCC just came out with its latest report.”

  “The IPCC?” I asked.

  “The United Nations group of scientists from all over the world studying climate change.” I nodded, and he began to read. “No matter what we do now, global warming is going to continue for centuries, and sea levels will continue to rise. They predict an increase in droughts, tropical cyclones, and extreme high tides. Listen to this: ‘The atmospheric concentration of carbon dioxide in 2005 exceeds by far the natural range over the last 650,000 years.’ Mom, look at this graph!”

  We pored over several charts and graphs, and then I looked at my teenage son, so strong and handsome, his fresh face looking at harbingers of his future. “I’m so sorry, son,” I said softly. “Really, I feel like I did everything I could, but it was not enough. My generation is handing you a world that...” I paused, trying to find the words.

  “Mom, it’s OK,” he said. “It’s just the way it is. At least I know what I’m facing. Most people in my generation don’t want to even think about it. Did you know that an Exxon Mobil think tank is offering $10,000 to any scientist that will dispute these findings? What are they thinking? And this report doesn’t even include last summer, ya know, with Greenland melting.”

  “What a sad story for humanity! If only countries could come together to work on this worldwide threat!” I lamented. “Actually, if only people would come together, get over their differences, collaborate for the collective good, we could pool our resources for coping with a planetary crisis.”

  “They just need to read Venus and Her Lover! Learn about how to do healthy relationship,” Alex said.

  I laughed. “Yeah, we need more melting in people’s hearts, not in the glaciers and icebergs of the world.”

  Alex nodded and we gazed into each other’s eyes. Mother-Child... the most unconditional love... the primordial Valentine... I felt the strength we shored up in each other. This strength flowed into my belly, mingling with the energies recently tapped by Kali.

  He went to his room to begin his homework, and I sat down with a cup of tea. Gazing out at the snow-blanketed mountain ridges, I sipped and thought. Global climate change. Greenland is melting. Earth is in the Sixth Great Extinction. The United States, the country of my birth and current residence, wreaking destruction in Afghanistan, Iraq, and now itching to hurl nukes at Iran. So many people carried away by their myths, being pulled down a drain of prophecy they called Armageddon! The same myt
hs that trained me that my body is shameful, my sexual impulses merit guilt, lovers have property rights over one another, my very female identity is dangerous, spouses cannot trust each other. And that erotic expression is bad, bad, bad – and needs to be controlled, restricted, repressed, punished – snuffing out the life force as surely as any weapon.

  Occupied with such notions in our minds, we could not form dynamic partnerships capable of responding to the global emergency. Our survival might very well depend on collaboration, pooling our collective wisdom, and unified action. But first, we needed to recognize ourselves as free beings and divine co-creators.

  With Earth in a time of sweeping change, the anti-sovereignty agenda was intensifying. It was as if the Dominator System was throwing us little crisis after crisis to obscure our view of what was happening on a kosmic scale.

  As I sipped my tea, I began to link the events of my week. While my emotional life felt intense, it was but a sliver of the intensity going on planetwide this week. Events spiraled toward their destinies. Like the Chinese proverb says, “If we do not change our direction, we are likely to end up where we are headed.”

  Where did I want to go? What journey was I taking?

  I put on a hat and coat and stepped outside, breathing in the biting air. Snow drifted down from a vault of heaven lined with grey cotton clouds. As far as I could see, sagebrush crouched silently on the mesa, casting no shadows, receiving the gentle kisses of a million snowflakes. Each flake, an individual expression of hexagonal geometry, carried to Earth a message about the perfection of the Universe. When I caught these icy stars on my tongue, I could taste that perfection.

  Making Valentines

  To celebrate Valentine’s Day, James and I took a long morning to stay in bed together. With tenderness, we gazed into each other’s eyes and slowly stroked each other’s bodies. It had been too long! I kissed his chest and buried my nose in his armpit, breathing in his smell. My hand found his lingam and began stroking it, as his hand explored my inner thighs, pubic hair, and yoni. Our arousal was mutual and deliciously gradual, giving us each full moments to savor our love. When it came time to mount him, I reached for a condom. James frowned. “We’ve never used one before,” he said.

  “Consequences,” I said. Until Daphne’s HIV test results came back, we had to be safe. I watched how this situation wanted to sting me, have me hold it against them, hand me the scepter of self-righteousness. Observing the thought in my awareness, I ushered it out. I could feel Kali looking over my shoulder.

  Our lovemaking raised us in progressive levels of ecstasy, James retaining to continue stoking our fire, and my orgasms an engine of propulsion. Inhabiting a luminous space while our bodies expanded and seemed to emit their own light, we felt no need to act nor to react. Outside the normal domains of cause and effect, attachment and suffering, and separation, our individual boundaries became diffuse. We felt completely unified. Becca and James, as always.

  Afterwards, we held each other, so precious to each other, murmuring about the importance of taking intimate time – in whatever form – no matter our physical ailments. The crux of my jealous reactions, I realized, was my need for support from my partner. As long as our relationship was adequately cared for, I could accept – and bless – wider expressions of love.

  I talked about the intensity of the week, personal and planetary.

  “Becca, I know this week has been demanding on you...well, on all of us, and you’re doing really good. I think we’re being asked to speed up, to keep pace with events. I watch TV so I can know what’s going on out there, and man, the Dominator System is going wild! It gets more insane every day. But we have to keep aware, the Earth is changing so fast.”

  “A cosmic speed-up.” I said.

  “Yeah,” James continued. “I don’t want to be on the edges of a vortex that’s spiraling into a black hole, and get compressed into oblivion.”

  “Like a Crone’s cauldron... Kali’s dance of destruction,” I quoted from my poems.

  “Well, I don’t want to be sucked into that black hole, if I can help it,” James said. “Instead, I think we’re being called to create vortices of our own, where we swirl around sex-positive art, sacred sexuality, healing, love... more and more love.”

  “Like we just did,” I agreed, imagining how the energy of Creation loved nothing more than celebrating life, and how orgasms were its perfect affirmation. “I felt it – the power of our love. We can make that choice. We can sink the axis of each vortex in our hearts, and plant it in the Earth. We can be pumping out love...”

  “Just like they’re slinging out death and hatred,” James went on. “And how they promote it in the name of a fairy tale! This hierarchy of control and domination! The militant Christians and Jews and Muslims and Hindus all believe their god stories, and use them to justify their wars. Ya know, as they move tighter down the spiral of destruction, things go by faster and faster. Since we’re part of their world, we feel it, too.

  “My thing with Daphne is pushing you, I know, but it’s also giving us practice in loving and identifying the obstacles to love. We have to be as clear as possible in these times.”

  I saw the wisdom in his words, and developed his train of thought. “As the Dominator System goes down the black hole, we can weave our fairy tale of love and creation, laying the foundations for a more functional world.”

  “And have awesome sex,” James added.

  “I like our fairy tale better, don’t you?” I asked.

  James pulled me closer. “Here I am at noon, lying in a puddle in our bed, having just experienced the most amazing power in the Universe... Yeah, I definitely like our fairy tale better. Happy Valentine’s Day, Becca.”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” I replied.

  We were fortunate to have each other. Whatever might have been churning in the outside world did not affect the warmth and safety that we found underneath the covers of our bed.

  Cupid, as randy adolescent instead of cherubic toddler, was aiming his arrows at James and me this Valentine’s Day. Venus, Cupid’s mother and Goddess of Love, should rightfully reign supreme on this holiday, and I felt under her graces. No matter how arrows might sting, I felt confident I could keep my heart operational.

  The legend of St. Valentine comes from the third century CE. The story goes that Claudius II, Roman emperor, was running short of soldiers for his army, which he blamed on the fact that men refused to leave their wives and sweethearts. His logical solution was to outlaw marriage! Claudius the Cruel, as he became known, had already distinguished himself as a ruthless persecutor of early Christians, who were rejecting the worship of Roman gods and goddesses. Valentinus was a Christian priest who quietly defied the emperor’s order and married young lovers in secret. His reputation as a friend to lovers grew.

  Before long, Valentinus was thrown into prison for his illegal ceremonies, and he actively set to converting his guards to Christianity. One guard, Asterius, was dubious of the priest but said that if he could prove the power of the new religion, he would try to help his prisoner. So Asterius brought his blind daughter to Valentinus. Through fervent prayer, the priest cured the sight of the young girl. Asterius complied by working for the priest’s release, the result being that the infuriated emperor sentenced Valentinus to death. The priest, in the meantime, endeared himself to the guard’s daughter, and it is said, he fell in love with her. On his way to the gallows, he slipped her a farewell note, signing it, “From Your Valentine.” From this we get our practice of sending tokens of love and signing them “From Your Valentine.”

  This Valentine’s Day, as I made cards with construction paper and doilies, I re-affirmed my devotion to the power of Love. Apparently, Valentinus was willing to die for it. The question before us: were we willing to live – really live – for it?

  In addition to Valentines of the paper variety, I was being aske
d to deliver some made of actions. At the Trance Liberation Valentine’s Dance, which Daphne as well as James attended, I sat with Daphne at the altar for some eye gazing, wanting to establish a personal connection with her, a good practice in unconditional love. I danced with my partner James, swinging him around as much as his worn-out knees allowed. And I spent some time sitting to just be with myself, for self-love is the foundation from which all other tenderness emanates.

  Maha Shivratri

  A couple days after Valentine’s Day was the annual Hindu celebration of Maha Shivratri, an all-night ritual to Shiva. While the high desert mountains of northern New Mexico are about as far away from the steamy Ganges River valley of India as you can get, Taos nonetheless has an active ashram of Neem Karoli Baba. Occasionally I attended pujas (ceremonies) at the Hanuman Temple, the “Night of Shiva” being my favorite. Given my intensive personal workshop on sexuality and the cosmic speed-up, I welcomed Shivratri (or Shiva ratri). Perfect timing.

  From the outside, the ashram looks to be a typical Taos adobe structure, but inside, the temple space is draped with rich fabrics, covered with soft carpets, and adorned with candles, hanging bells, flowers, altars, and a 1600-pound larger-than-life statue of the monkey god Hanuman. The temple space was crowded with devotees, but I found a cushion to sit on, and soon closed my eyes in preparation for the night.

  As Kali’s partner, Shiva is the God of Death and Transformation, and I wanted transformation. The myth says that he dances the cosmos into and out of existence. Into his epic dance I wanted to step, so I gathered up pieces of myself and set them on the altar of this night, praying for healing. One by one, I examined them:

  The past months, thanks in part to the Coterie, I had felt my sexual energy stirring on its own. Tonight perhaps I could up its momentum, propelling me into a fuller expression of my juicy cronedom. Leaving behind the frustrations of my menopause, I wanted to proactively welcome my erotic energy, and to nurture its growth.

  The challenges that accompanied James’ and Daphne’s relationship were bringing me gifts: tonight I wanted to receive those gifts, instead of focusing on any difficulty in their delivery. If there was any insecurity within me, I willed it to be gone.