Okay, the subject-line of this post is a slight paraphrasing of something that Adrien – of Yoga With Adrien – says in order to get her watchers/students to get their spines aligned nicely. (It’s a very different thing for me to hear “head over heart, heart over hips” or similar than to hear the bark of “Sit up straight!” which… semantics, but also maybe somatics? Like, it’s helping, so I’m going with it).
As-you-know-bob, I’m pretty damn woo. I’m also a singer who accidentally learned how to do chakra-based energy work while learning how to support and project my voice in my teens. If my teacher knew that she was also teaching me how to spin my personal energy centers while she was teaching me vocal technique, she didn’t bring it up. And I sure as heck didn’t know I was doing it until Someone Who Can See That Stuff (I am a concrete bunker, essentially) said to me: “So, did you know that, when you’re preparing your body to sing [as in: perform], your chakras are lighting up one by one, in order, from root to crown?”
And I was, like, “Oh. … Well I guess that explains a couple of things”.
And here we are.
I read my latest tarotscope, which was super-relevant to this whole Notice Pleasure alphabetical prompts “heal your sexuality” project I’ve got going on. Nice. And I took its advice – sort of – and looked up a quicky little Root Chakra Meditation video and followed the instructions in a kind of approximate way while doing some humming low in my vocal range and… I keep coming back to this stuff for a reason, apparently.
Because something happened.
Like, it wasn’t anything big. It was just… “Oh. There’s movement here. Oh. Something is kind of freeing up in a way that I was really not expecting here. Oh.”
And so I looked up some related stuff. I looked up “root chakra yoga poses” and, among other things, found out that a lot of my go-to “ten minutes a day” yoga poses are ones for opening up and balancing your roots. Poses like Bridge and Warrior 2 and Child’s Pose. Wide-legged forward folds and deep squats. And I started watching the Grounding Into Gratitude Yoga With Adrien video (because see last post, basically) and she did that initial spinal alignment pose – which I did in a modified way, because I’m sitting in a chair for this – and… I started laughing. Like, laughing with delight and also feeling a bit weepy?
And… here’s the bit that is kind of weird? My vaginal muscles started doing things. Like, this kind of rhythmic, involuntary squeezing? And I started getting, like… wet, leaky, something?
And… I mean, I wouldn’t call it orgasmic, by any stretch of the imagination. But it was definitely a tension-release that, in a different context, could have been very sexual.
Which. Huh…
That’s pretty relevant to my interests over here.
So. Okay. Message received. I’ll just keep doing the thing, then?
Heh. A friend of mine talks about how, when she’s on the right track, The Universe tends to let her know in some fairly specific ways.
But I’m kind of having A Feeling about this?
Like, maybe the message is literally just “Oh, hey. Don’t twist your spine into a pretzel for ¾ of your waking hours” with a side order of “Reminder: You actually do have to feel safe and secure on a physical level BEFORE you can start having these vulnerable energetic communions with other people, and that’s not actually weird or broken, that’s just good sense”.
But I’m going to keep doing this. Head over Heart over Hips. It makes me think of the Land, Sea, and Sky souls in Ecstatic Witchcraft. Which… maybe it’s time to look that up again? Maybe?
Just maybe.
But for sure: More humming. More extending my roots down into the ground. More breathing into my root chakra. More spinal alignment. More.
Notice Pleasure: Well, those vaginal contractions probably qualify. Other than that? Flutter of kisses across my ribs in the morning. Dark chocolate melting on my tongue. The smell and taste of summer veggies – especially red peppers – pulled out of the freezer and roasted with salt and sage a white wine. Receiving love letters full of supportive words. Taking a minute to call up the remembered scent of roses. The brush of my long hair against my bare back.