Express The Sensual

Sometimes your creative Muse is motivated, playful, filled with wild hip swaying, booty bumping energy.  Sometimes your Muse can’t wait to Dance, Dance, Dance.  Sometimes she has a love crazed hard-on (yes, I said it. Get over it.) to grab that pole and make the world beg for more.   And sometimes she couldn’t give a shit.

Sometimes, she looks at that shiny vertical shaft of steel (or titanium, or brass, or chrome) and all she can think about is how cold it probably is right now.  How she’ll have to pull out the yoga mat to warm up.  How tired she is. Or how long it would take to change out of her damn pajamas and into her booty shorts, tank, leg warmers, 6 inch heels, and sexy cover-up, let alone find all those things in her closet.  Le Sigh!

So instead, she decides to skip her workout and visit Twitter for a few last minute tweets before bed… and maybe a stop on youtube for a quick pole video from one of her favorite Sensualistas… and then over to Amazon to pick up that new awesome album by Adele…

But something happens.

Something unexpected, especially since she’s wearing slippers, a pink heart covered pajama shirt, and nothing remotely practical. A tingle, a tickle, an urge to move, travels slowly up her spine.  Now, the Muse is no stranger to random movement and assumes it’s just a simple reaction to Adele’s luscious voice singing “Turning Tables”  and “Set Fire to the Rain.”  But as one song leads to another, leads to another, she starts to feel constrained. Her body is too tight, with her legs folded and spine bent squarely, resting on the office chair. Her mind attempts to protest, “Dancing in slippers is simply too ridiculous, and, well, too  slippery.”  But the mind is too tired to put up a fight and the Muse, recognizing the unconscious call of passion, uncoils from it’s dark cave and says “Why the fuck not!”

The Muse still doesn’t give a shit; about training or warm-ups or working her abs or building her strength or any of that practical crap. It’s 10pm at night for goodness sake, and she’s tired.  But that doesn’t mean she’s uninspired.  In fact, now is her chance… to be Deliberately Lazy, Deliciously Dirty, Undeniably Sexy for no damn reason other than she fucking feels like it.

The conscious mind pops out of it’s sleepy stupor to remind the Muse that she’s in no position to be making difficult demands like inverting or pole ups and then goes back to sleep.  But the Muse has no need for difficult tricks.  She just wants to MOVE, BE, BREATH.  The Muse wants to remind us to Live in the Moment because it’s the only one we’ve got.

And so she slinks. Over to the pole for slow, delicious, pelvic circles that take forever.  No, longer than forever.

She slides over to the wall (even easier than usual thanks to her slippery slippers) and paints passion into the air.

Breathing deeply, living for movement, tugging on those pink heart pajamas, dragging her fingers through her hair.

Dancing with sweetness, dancing with compassion, dancing with the steady, slow energy of the quiet night until she can’t remember her own name.

And when the night changes it’s melody from the cooling tones of Adele to the butt bumping beats of Kanye, Katy Perry, and some kind of ET alien invasion…

She gives in to that too.

Sometimes you have to give in the Muse fully, completely, without fear and simply trust that your body knows exactly what you need, exactly when you need it.

BTW, if you can say the title of this post 10 times fast without messing up (to me live, on the phone or in person), I’ll give you a free 30 min Yoga or Pole Private on Skype. No foolin’! PRACTICE FIRST and then contact me to set up a time or just leave a note in the comments.

If you enjoyed the article, please subscribe to ExpressTheSensual and share it with your friends.

Twirl, Swirl, and Fly!

Once upon a time…

…there was a beautiful and vivacious woman, although she didn’t usually think so, who was diligently folding the laundry.  It was late, the house was fairly quiet and she was enjoying the time alone, even if she was stuck doing a few domestic chores.

As she slid her fingers across a soft silk bra, one of her favorite songs began to play on the radio.  The deep and luscious beat was hypnotic, seeming to beg her hips to move.

She looked around, smiling at the guilty thoughts playing across her mind, and gave in to the music. Slowly, slowly, allowing her hips to shift and tilt, turn and grind, circle and shake. She let the laundry drop from her hands and brushed her fingers through her hair. Such softness, such a tingle as she soothed the pressure points along her skull and caressed her lovely cheeks.

Suddenly she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and stopped. Surprised by the sensual smile on her own lips, the sexy curve of her hips, the acceptance of her self in her own eyes. She considered stopping, wonderding what would happen if someone caught her in such a precarious position.  But the song pushed through her senses, it’s beat too infectious to ignore and she let the mirror’s vision slide from her sight.

Realizing she was simply too warm, she found her fingers tugging at her clothes, pulling down the edges of her pants, lifting the straps of her tank top.  Everything seemed to tickle her, the smooth cotton surrounding her, holding her too tightly.  She needed to move freely, uncontrolled, unconstrained, completely released from emotional and physical boundaries. She knew she had to decide between dancing and clothing, and it was simply to late to stop.  First the shirt, slid over her head and shoulders.  And then the pants, bit by bit, fell from her undulating hips. The air tickled along her exposed skin and a welcome sigh escaped her lips.

When her legs began to shake from such playful exertions, she fell backwards onto the bed.  Her feet dangled, then swung from side to side, and finally kicked in a happy tantrum, feeding off the passion of the singer’s voice. The sheets were soft and easy to slide along as she rolled and twisted, moving slowly, deliberately, yet giving in to the emotions curling through her mind. She wondered again, how sensual her lips might look, lying on the bed with her tush in the air.  She decided a peek at herself wouldn’t hurt and looked over her shoulder at the mirror again.

The sight that greeted her almost brought tears.  Her body glistened; glowed with vitality and the feminine form.  Every curve melded seamlessly, sensually into the next with an easy grace– even the ones she had never liked before. For once, her body seemed happy, her mind content with the sight of herself, without needless worry, without misplaced shame.  Perfect and whole as she’d always been without having to change a thing.

She sighed as the song released it’s final notes and winked at her own reflection. Letting the memory of her movement, her honest beauty, her sensuality be captured and held.  She finally understood that she was truly sexy, and vowed to remember this fact today and every day after.  Perhaps all that she needed was to dance naked…. right after she finished the laundry.

A Call To Action

I invite you to discover your own hidden dancer.  The one you hide from while you do the laundry or get ready for bed.  Forget about the pole, forget about special clothes, forget about everything but the song and the feeling of being in your body, in your breath, in this exact moment.  You don’t need anything special, except your amazing self, perfect and whole exactly as you are.

Sexy is a realization, a state of mind that you are amazing just as you are. Simply choose a song and let the music infect you with it’s passion.  Or better yet, use a song to transform your body into pure emotion.  Let creativity, truth, and sensuality be your guide.  Let go of your worries for the length of just one song and you’ll soon see that they will never be as important, as alive as you are when you dance with your whole self.

Give in to passion, give in to life, give in to love…. and you may soon find yourself dancing naked.

Just try it, even if it takes a glass or two of wine.  I dare you to Dance (almost) Naked and rediscover how surprisingly sexy you really are. Please share your anonymous and not-so-anonymous thoughts in the comments.

If you enjoyed the article, please subscribe to ExpressTheSensual and share it with your friends.

Twirl, Swirl, and Fly!