Introducing Master #2, II - Tantric Shitshow #3

Image by LoggaWiggler from Pixabay

Hey y’all,

(Continued from April 21, 2020)

How do I know all this? Because Charles Muir is a storyteller and he told us all about it.

For the record, although Christy Rose was described as one of the elite teachers, she did not offer private sessions that week.

His son, Orion, did. He was a beatific, California-hippie type who was cursed with the inability to get a tan. He had fair skin that burned easily, with regular features, a beard, and long, flowing hair. He wasn’t all that compelling. He revered his father and lacked his father’s charisma.

Charles Muir did have his own crazy version of charisma, because his appeal defies explanation.

Seriously, think of Yogi Bear as one of the players in “Revenge of the Nerds,” and you might come up with a fairly accurate image of his presence.

As the week progressed, I came to like and respect Leah, the head dakini for Source Tantra, quite a lot. You’ll be reading more about her later.

I had no idea I would that first night, however, when she was introduced.

She was cute, vivacious, and confident – a cheerleader type. She wore a form-fitting Asian-style dress from her neck to below her knees. Her dress would have been demure except for the slits that went halfway up her thighs and the obvious boob job encased in such a garment.

Leah was very frank and articulate in what she had to offer, and her specialties were erectile dysfunction and premature ejaculation. She was very passionate about sex and sexuality, and how Neo-Tantra could help us all got so much more out of our bodies. She was especially enthusiastic that we women have as much erectile tissue as men, inch for inch and ounce for ounce, and we deserve to know all about that, and what to do with it.

In the gossip that ensued over the next week - because the Source Tantra group was very gossipy - I found out that she had been Charles’ partner for 8 years, from the time she was 25 and he was 55, to 33 and 63 respectively. She had also been one of students. During that time, she helped him run his Art of Conscious Loving workshops that he had started with his 2nd wife, Caroline Muir.

As Charles’ protegée, it’s highly possible Leah has surpassed her mentor and that really pissed him off. Leah taught some of the classes. The one time she and Charles were on the stage presenting together, he was such a dick to her and regularly undermined Leah during the lecture. She kept her head and her composure, and probably had to exert herself to do so.

When Charles introduced Lisa, the other dakini, the one who is gay, he made a point of saying that she had strong “Shakti energy.” (I’m sure Rashmi would have done backflips to hear that.) Lisa was the one I thought I would be interested in working with from the info about her online. But she didn’t have a whole lot to say other than “yeah, everything Leah said,” and that was pretty much it.

Lisa was not somebody I gravitated to, so I don’t have much to say about her – other than finding out through Facebook that she’s gay, and that she and her partner, Dana, traveled in Sri Lanka after the workshop.

So exit stage left, gay dakini Lisa, and happy trails.

After the lengthy introduction of his team, Charles launched into an overview of the next 10 days, with some sage pieces of advice on how to handle the experience and various challenges that would come up.

“Tantriks and tantrikas are noisy lovemakers. When you feel one coming on, make sure you grab a pillow and howl into that.”

He even showed us how, by grabbing a pillow and making muffled, gargling, and grumbling noises into it.

I thought it very odd that an Ecstatic Love Workshop on extensive private property that throws events like this all the time would have strictly enforced quiet hours that started at 10pm.

Especially because there were events up until 9:45.

Later, I heard that at the very first Masters 8 years before, the ecstatic orgasm noises got so loud and lasted so long that somebody in the neighborhood called the cops in the middle of the night, and “Master” Mantak Chia had to get out of bed to go deal with them.

That workshop must have been rip-roaring success.

Another of the topics Charles Muir covered was “falling in love” during the workshop.

“It’s so tempting,” he said.

“We all have that urge to merge. And you throw in great sex and possibly the best orgasms you’ve ever had, and it’s so easy to believe that you found the ONE! And this is LOVE!”

“Don’t do it!” he warned.

“When this is over, everybody goes back to their real lives. So while you’re here, meet people. Find friends you can practice on. So become tantra buddies and help each other learn. That way, you don’t hurt each other.”

Solid, practical, sound advice that definitely applied to the audience. Most of the people at this workshop were flying solo. At most, I believe couples made up 1/3 of the attendees.

That impressed me. His perspective on awakening sexuality impressed me even more.

Charles Muir was very frank and open about the gift of awakened sexuality for both men and women, and how riddled we are with the sexual shame that shuts us down. He said men had limited time to awaken before aging did its thing, yet women could awaken at any age.

He spoke with compassion how so many women don’t feel what they should with a clitoris that has 8000 nerve endings because we’ve been numbed out. We’ve endured stress, criticism, slut-shaming, fat-shaming, age-shaming, trauma, sexual abuse, rape.

He said we could heal. He said we could get our feeling back.

Listening to Charles Muir that night was such a relief. He was a truly powerful speaker and an eloquent storyteller. I was inspired after that talk, and filled with optimism.

Looking back on that strong beginning, it’s almost impossible to believe how badly things would tank within days.

And that, my friends, will have to wait until further down the line. I’m leading you into this slowly, and there are reasons for that.

Thanks so much to the friends who heard my plea and sent letters, notes, WhatsApp texts, and even a WhatsApp phone call.

That made me feel so loved. Yes please, keep them coming!

By the way, if you write me, I also write back. Not long epistles like this, obviously, because I need to have some time for me and the wonderful place I’m in.

Much love to all y’all!

Peace,

Mana

Introducing Master #2 Part, I - Tantric Shitshow #3

Image by LoggaWiggler from Pixabay

Hey y’all,

So for the past 4 years, I’ve studied with a classical Tantra teacher who comes from the source. Rashmi was born and raised in India, and her family comes from a long lineage of Hindu Shakta Tantrics - like everything else, there are various lineages that approach classical Tantra from different angles. In her lineage, as the name implies, their priority is to worship the goddess first.

So…needless to say, Neo-Tantra makes her blood boil.

Neo-Tantra started in India about 150 years ago. According to Rashmi, it started from a bunch sexually-repressed white people who couldn’t handle all the decadent, sensuous images in the ancient temples, much less the culture of a people who knew how to enjoy their sexuality and their energy and their bodies – possibly without limits.

So what they did was take the sexuality and leave behind the spirituality (Hinduism) and the physical practice (Yoga) that went with it. Then some posers came back to reclaim both, only to get it all twisted and distorted and bastardized beyond recognition.

I imagine a few fake Indian Swamis got in on the hustle – and if so, it’s possible one of these was Charles Muir’s guru back in the day.

However it happened, Charles Muir is known as the “pioneer” who brought Neo-Tantra from India to America. His company, Source Tantra, is based out of California.

I can easily understand Rashmi’s rage towards this man, and others like him.

The workshops he branded with the flowery language of pretty words like “Sacred Spot Massage” and “Tantra: The Art of Conscious Loving” would be more honest and aptly described with the moniker: “How to Fingerfuck Like a Boss.”

Because that’s pretty much what it is.

However, that would be far more challenging to market.

“Welcome to the Sex Seminar,” said Charles Muir on his introduction.

Of course, that got a lot of laughs.

But what can I say about my own impression of the man?

To be honest, my impression of him on that first night was highly favorable. But my very first impression of Charles Muir was that he was in a lot of pain.

On the first night, as I had said in a previous email, the “Masters” were introduced to us along with their teams. While Mantak Chia talked and talked, Charles Muir sat cross-legged on the stage. His eyes were closed and he rubbed his legs in a continuous rhythm. His face held the tightness of people who are struggling physically, and trying hard not to show it.

His hands were huge – even larger in proportion to his tall frame. I think he stood around 6’3” to 6’5.” However, I wouldn’t call his presence imposing.

Why? Because Charles Muir has the goofiest face I’ve ever seen on a man. And once he started to talk, his mannerisms were as cartoonish as his features.

Not exactly what I expected from a man who has been married 3 times and slept with countless women all over the country while touring with his workshops.

Yet he was funny and very endearing. What was obvious was his personality, his humor, and his charm, not the patriarchal glory-of-man mindset that unveiled slowly as the days passed.

I also appreciated the fact, that unlike Mantak Chia, he allowed generous amounts of time for his Source Tantra team to be introduced with a lot of detail. They were offering private sessions during the workshop, and he also talked all of them up.

His team included his current wife, his son, and his 2 best dakinis - one of whom had been his lover for 8 years; and the other I would later find out was GAY.

(So, Sierra really wasn’t so necessary for the queers. But that’s another story and I’ll get back to that later.)

Christy Rose Muir is his 3rd wife and pretty much half his age. She’s a festival goddess type with platinum extensions braided into her hair, exotic makeup, and clothes that managed to be both clingy and flowy at the same time. She gazed at Charles with the goo-goo eyes of adoration, and even had a sultry, caramel voice. It could be argued that Christy Rose was also rather cartoonish, but sexy cartoonish.

“I met this beautiful man 8 years ago,” Christy Rose crooned when she was introduced. “And what you’re about to learn over these next 10 days are not just secrets taught to him by some Hindu in India, but techniques Charles came up with on his own, as well as relational tools we use in our relationship.”

So how did this idyllic pairing of beings come together?

At Tantrapalooza. According to Charles, the nickname for that happening was “Fuckapalooza” and his friends tried to talk him out of going.

He said something about feeling like he was too old for that kind of thing.

On that night, Christy caught his attention with her blue dreadlocks, mad hula-hooping skills, and six pack abs that had their own six pack.

Charles must have caught Christy’s attention with his presentation of sacred spot massage with one of his lovers, Mare Simone, who must be really well-known in the Neo-Tantra Universe from all the hoopla on the mention of her name.

Anyway, Charles Muir and Mare Simone did their thing with quite an audience, and she was also on her period that night. So at the climax (ha! Pun impossible to avoid), she squirted blood along with her sacred amrita, and they were a hit.

The first date between Charles and Christy was sacred spot massage. Their second date was when Charles invited her to be his “birthday present to himself” for his 65th birthday.

And from there, love blossomed. Isn’t that romantic?

Peace,

Mana

PS: To be continued on Friday, April 24, 2020…

The Quixotic Quest of the Great Queer Hope II - Tantric Shitshow, Part 1

Image by ktphotography from Pixabay

Hey y’all,

[The beginning of this letter is the blog right after this one.]

I thought: “What the hell. I’ve never been to Thailand, and what better way to celebrate my freedom after ending a stifling, oppressive relationship than to go to SE Asia and start that journey with a Tantra adventure.”

So I signed right up.

This is the part where I should have done some research.

From the information I found online, the Masters – Mantak Chia (Tao) and Charles Muir (Tantra) - seemed really male, really straight, and much older than you would expect. Mantak Chia is 75 or 76, and Charles Muir just turned 73.

In other words, these men were of a different generation who never had to consider LGBTQ inclusiveness. Hell, they never even had to consider women – queer or straight – beyond making sure they had orgasms.

There was also no mention of Dr. Sierra Levy or a space for Queer Tantra in the description.

This would have been a good time to ask those questions. But I didn’t. And again, that’s on me.

So I get here.

This workshop was on Mantak Chia’s turf of Tao Garden Health Spa and Resort outside Chiang Mai. The grounds are lush and beautiful, there are yin/yang symbols everywhere, and there are all kinds of eastern healing modalities offered in the clinic and in the spa, some of which you can’t find anywhere else in the world, and it seems he keeps making up new treatments.

The environment there is far more Taoist than Tantric, but that’s ok. As complex as Taoist sexuality is, I learned just enough from Mantak Chia that I’m interested and curious to learn more - even if he was prone to saying “wagina” instead of “vagina,” especially when tired and his accent got so thick I hardly understood him. But I preferred his “wagina” to the excessive “yoni” talk that happened during Charles Muir’s lessons.

We’re not Hindu. Yoni coming out of an American mouth sounds pretentious. So pretty please, with sugar on top, call our bits the sacred cunt already. It’s more honest, not to mention sexier.

I finally ran into Sierra, who said she didn’t know how many people had signed up who were queer. Kind of odd for the head of queer tantra.

She said she had put the word out on Facebook and “other groups,” so maybe some would show up. She had heard there were “a few queers” here.

She also said that there would be an announcement drawing attention to her as the queer pod leader, and that’s how we would find each other.

People came to this workshop from all over the world - some couples, but mostly singles - of all ages and sizes, many between mid-twenties to early forties, and most seemed straight.

Although I suspect there were several bisexual women here, most of them were from Europe, a place where discretion is the better part of valor. From my experience, European lesbians/bisexuals are perfectly content to hide in plain sight.

And when you’re in a workshop that’s very patriarchal in its outlook, that’s probably a better way to be.

Oh, and both of the “Masters” in this Workshop on blissful, ecstatic love had a harem mentality when it came to women.

All this became more obvious every day.

So does this sound like the kind of Tantra workshop a queer woman would feel awesome in?

Umm….yeah…not. Dr. Sierra Levy did not tell me any of this.

Once I got here, Sierra told me a lot more. This was a biannual workshop – the 4th, and rumored to be the last “Masters.” She had been here for the 2nd and 3rd workshop, and said that both times had totally sucked.

“It’s so heterosexist,” she said. “I’m here to give support, and to make this a safe space for queers to be. The Masters need to evolve and change their language.”

And Sierra was here to make that happen.

She didn’t tell me any of that either when I had met her.

She had a particular hard-on for Charles Muir, the Master of Neo-Tantra.

Sierra had taken his course in California several years ago. When it came time for the men and women to separate to learn about yoni (cunt, goddammit!) and lingam (you mean cock?) massage, she piped up that she preferred to massage yonis .(cunts!)

Sierra insisted she’d rather join the men and Charles Muir refused to let her do it. He said she could buy his books and videos on how to massage the yoni.

(How about divine pussy? That has a nice ring.)

But Sierra Levy could not join the men.

“Well, what if I pack? Could I join the men then?” Sierra told me she asked him. “Charles Muir didn’t even know what I was talking about.”

Well, no. Why would he? Never mind the generational difference, most men who are mighty comfortable in their male privilege don’t take the time to learn the ways and verbiage of queer women.

Anyway, Dr. Sierra Levy, naturopath and acupuncturist has been pissed off at Charles Muir ever since.

Who knows how long she’s been a thorn in his side? She was determined to get him to evolve, and change his language to spill his secrets to a queer audience.

“I would rather die than change my language!” Charles Muir protested.

What’s mystifying to me is how many times she has taken his workshops. Again, this was her 3rd out of 4 Meeting of the Masters Workshop. And that doesn’t include the California workshop she took several years ago.

For what it’s worth, Sierra has a kind heart and I think she meant well. And to give credit where it’s due, the Sierra’s of this world do their part to bring about social change. They squawk long and loud, and eventually people have to listen, even if they only do so in the hope they’ll shut up.

Which she didn’t.

However, I did not knowingly or willingly sign up to be a part of her Quixotic Quest as the Great Queer Hope in the world of Neo-Tantra and Sexual Tao.

Oh, and by the way, she lacked the skills to be supportive to the one and only queer who showed up on her recommendation, much less be this stellar hero of the Great Queer Hope.

This was one of those scenarios where somebody wants to be a part of something so they can feel important and special, not for what they have to give to others.

If you’ve read this far, this is only the beginning.

Peace,

Mana

PS: Click HERE if you’d like to read the beginning of this letter.

The Quixotic Quest of the Great Queer Hope I - Tantric Shitshow Part 1

Image by KiraHundeDog from Pixabay

Hey y’all,

Well, that was a disaster.

I love being open. I love the results of being open most of the time. It’s a state that makes life more interesting, and jumping into the unknown has landed me in some spectacular places and experiences.

But every so often, I would be wise to exercise the caution of taking a closer look of what I’m jumping into.

And this Masters Workshop Tao Meets Tantra, with Sierra Levy (no – excuse me, I mean Doctor Sierra Levy, naturopath and acupuncturist), allegedly as the head of Queer Tantra was definitely one of those times.

I should have researched.

I should have asked questions. I should have asked a lot of questions.

But I didn’t, and that’s on me.

To get y’all up to speed, I left the Masters Workshop on Sunday, while it ends today, Wednesday. I came to Pai with Kip on Monday.

Right now, I’m sitting in a lovely little café on a dirt road with a lovely view of a small farm between this café and the place where Kip and I are staying in our respective mud huts.

Roosters are crowing, birds are chirping, the morning sun is bright, and it’s not too hot yet.

Photo by me.

Oh, and there’s a white Buddha statue on the hill above us.

There are lots of Buddhas on hills around here, and lots of temples.

I have this gorgeous little cappuccino set up in front of me, with a tiny cup of flower water on a small wooden tray, with a wooden spoon to stir as much brown sugar as I desire into my cappuccino.

In other words, I’m good, life is good, and I’m in a good place.

Photo by me.

I’ve also had some time to process long enough to find the humor in what I just left behind.

It’s fabulous when everything goes smoothly in life and travel, but the really good stories come from conflict and chaos, when everything goes to hell and all the drama that ensues.

So please excuse the length of this email. For those who want to dive with me, it will take several letters to tell all this in digestible chunks.

On that note, back to the shitshow and how I landed in it.

I met Sierra last summer at the first Cascadia Tantra Festival on the Olympic Peninsula. I almost didn’t go. I had finally gotten back in my house and I was exhausted. But the guest coordinator convinced me to come, insisted this would be so healing and nourishing after a breakup.

So I rallied and went.

This was one of those times when jumping off the cliff into the unknown was a gorgeous idea.

Five weeks after my split with Morgen, I was numb. The healing from the CTF was desperately needed. At the end of those few days, I was able to feel again, without feeling horrible. And to give credit where it’s due, Sierra Levy had been a part of that.

Sierra and I were 2 of 3 queer women there. The 3rd, Grace Bryant from Seattle, was one of the presenters and her 2 workshops – “Deconstructing Gender Identity” and “Non-Binary Tantra” - left little doubt as to what she was about and what she had to offer in this workshop.

On the last day of CTF, Sierra and I had paired up for an exercise in letting go through sending some love to those who had hurt us and who we hadn’t forgiven.

Sierra said: “I don’t need to do this. I’ve already done my work, but I can hold space while you release. I’m in bliss about 97% of the time.”

Looking back, that statement right there was a red flag.

But I went with the flow. In the exercise, we sat across from each other and held hands – left palm up and right palm down, left hand receives and right hand gives to make a circuit between us.

It was intense.

Energy coursed through me as tears streamed down my face.

I let go of so much shit inside of sorrow and the sorrow inside of shit about Morgen and her daughter, Yseult. Then they flowed out, and Robert (my late brother) and Keckley (his ex-wife) came in, and then my older brothers, then my parents, and I think you get the idea.

A powerful release like that is vulnerable and sets up a lot of trust.

After this exercise, Sierra and I continued talking, and agreeably lamented the lack of queer women who were also interested in studying Tantra. She then told me about this intensive Workshop in Thailand, and to spread the word to other queers who I thought might be interested.

“I’m heading up Queer Tantra,” so said Sierra, “and I want as many of us there as possible. There are only about 20 spaces left.”

“Are you teaching classes?” I asked.

“Maybe. My role hasn’t been fully defined yet.”

She friended me on Facebook and sent me the link. I kind of had a picture of her playing a role similar to what Grace Bryant had at this one.

I thought: “What the hell. I’ve never been to Thailand, and what better way to celebrate my freedom after ending a stifling, oppressive relationship than to go to SE Asia and start that journey with a Tantra adventure.”

So I signed right up.

This is the part where I should have done some research.

To be continued…

Peace,

Mana