Emerging Masculine Warrior Spirit

Feminine Warrior Spirit is Calling for You

Forest of Enlightenment, © 2021 by Thomas Ott

Warrior Spirit.

Influencers talk a lot about it and we see many books around this subject. The shortest example of Warrior Spirit I’ve found is that it’s internal mastery of yourself and often a positive attitude to resolve or avoid conflicts, internal and external. This is my story of how it found me and what it means to me.

Albuquerque, 1995, Summer, Saturday morning. I woke up on my cold linoleum bathroom floor. Dried vomit was caked on my cheek and my head was pounding.

Ms. Tequila dug deep and showed me where my inner wounded boy was hiding.

That Friday evening started as any Friday evening when you’re young, dumb, and have crazy friends. It was lots of laughter, booze, and partying. The weather was divine that night and we had free reign of the complex pool. Good times were had until Ms. Tequila showed up at the party. She came with a friend and introduced herself to me. We made small talk and I went back to being the host of the party.

Somewhere in the middle of the party Ms. Tequila took my hand and led me to a dark corner to have her way with me, and I let her. I was 24, living in a city surrounded by a desert, and until that evening didn’t realize all the unresolved issues I had with my ex-girlfriend. We had broken up the November before and I thought I had processed all the ‘emotions’ associated with that affair. My ‘date’ was good at uncovering my most hidden emotions, and I thank her for that.

Without ripping the lid off this relationship coffin, I will tell you this, our relationship was deep, passionate, and loving. It was the first time I connected with someone on such a deep level and I believe she did too. Our nights were filled with laughter, exploration, and vulnerability. The down part of this relationship was that it was doomed from the start.

We didn’t break up because of cheating or some other form of incompatibility, we broke up because we were young and had our paths to walk in life. We found each other on the same path and walked together for a short time. Then we came to a crossroads and parted, each one of us looking over our shoulders until we couldn’t see each other anymore.

Birds of prey swooped down from imaginary perches and ripped their talons into me.

Ms. Tequila dug deep and showed me where my inner wounded boy was hiding. She opened the door and coaxed him out. We talked and she showed me how deep my feelings still ran for her. This led me to go into full ‘no one loves me’ mode as I began to unpack and mourned love lost.

By the time my guests started to leave, I was sloppy drunk. I took one last shot as the last guest left and sat there in the dark. Ms. Tequila had to leave too but she told me all will be better in the morning. I sat there in my dark living room until the room started to spin. I ran to the toilet and started to purge. I purged and purged and purged.

I purged like no tomorrow and all my sad emotions seemed to stream out of me into that toilet bowl, heave after heave. Then I passed out on the floor and fell into the darkest of blackness ever.

In the pitch darkness of my dreams, I saw something. An enveloping presence came to me. It had no discernible shape and whatever shape I recognized, it became it. At first, I thought it was a worm and then a snake. Then it was a wolf. Then there were many wolves and then vultures.

After all, that’s what we’re taught to do, isn’t it? Don’t cry and be a man?

Birds of prey swooped down from imaginary perches and ripped their talons into me. Even a little mouse appeared and nibbled at my flesh. All these animals surrounded me and ripped my body to shreds. I can still hear their cackles and grunts as they ate everything that was me. It sounded like a nightmare and I should’ve been running in my dream but I felt incredibly at peace. I felt like something good was happening to me.

As soon as the feast was over, they all vomited out my bones and left me in a big pile. In a flash, the enveloping presence put my bones back together again and my body was restored. Then everything went black again till the morning.

The morning after was horrible. I felt like complete shit, but something was different. The night before brought out many unresolved issues from my breakup and I was now ready to address them.

… I have a goal to do better.

Why did it take so long to resolve this inner conflict? Simple. I did what every average man does in our current society. I pushed it deep down inside myself and hid it where no one can see. After all, that’s what we’re taught to do, isn’t it? Don’t cry and be a man?

I realize now, after looking back to that party on that fateful Summer night that my Warrior Spirit had awakened. I believe that spiritually (and physically) I purged out a whole host of hidden issues and trauma that I carried with me to that day.

Was my life a bed of roses afterward? No, certainly not. Did I make mistakes going forward? Yes! Quite a lot.

Am I the perfect man, father, son? Far from it but I have a goal to do better. The Warrior Spirit taught me to work on myself, to do better.

Do better.

Do better in my life. Explore and meditate on things. Do better in my relationship with my wife. Do better in rearing my children. Do better for me. Do better for my community. Do better for the less fortunate.

We no longer honor Feminine Warrior Spirit.

I believe that we all have Warrior Spirit and that Spirit has no real gender. For me, it’s Masculine. Others find it to be Feminine and even others find it to be genderless. It’s energy and connection to the Divine and when we tap into it, we awaken something in ourselves.

It’s a connection to the deepest parts of the cosmic web we call life. It’s an ocean of love that we shouldn’t be afraid to swim in. It’s the tallest mountain that we must climb for ourselves.

But all is not well.

There is an abundance of Feminine Warrior Spirit but the Masculine is lacking. The ranks of brave Masculine Warriors have dwindled over time. Many got lazy and defected to the fleeting distractions of modern society. They got confused and no longer work on themselves. They no longer listen, reflect, and change for the better.

They don’t resolve inner conflicts and treat Feminine Warriors as lesser beings instead of as equal ones. They lost the ability to see their illumination and the ability to tap into their power.

We no longer honor Feminine Warrior Spirit.

They are calling out to us and we ignore them. They are asking for us to come back to the light but we cover our ears and ‘grab women by the pussy’.

Masculine Warrior Spirit is needed to start the healing the world needs, and most importantly now! Our Mother Earth is burning. There is too much violence and too much confusion. Awake Men!

I know that things are changing in the world for us Men and we shouldn’t be afraid. It’s a good thing. We’re at a spiritual crossroads and all life hangs in the balance. Without us, there can be no balance.

A call for help has been sounded by our sisters, mothers, and lovers. Don’t be afraid to let your inner child out of the emotional prison you were taught to build. Let them out into the light and let the Warrior Spirit training begin.

I’ll meet you on the other side.

Special thanks to Yael Wolfe and her I Can’t Live in the World of Man Anymore post for inspiring my post. Thank you.

The Slow Burn Kiss

Photo by Jonah Pettrich on Unsplash

Stoking the coals at a moment’s notice

I’m a big Reddit reader. I probably waste a lot of time there, more so than Facebook, mostly because it’s not heavily censored and you can free the nipple there too!

The neat thing about Reddit is that if you have a particular interest in something (castiron, bento boxes, bonsai, etc) there’s probably a subreddit for it. You can geek out or even get learn a lot on the r/AMA subreddits (Ask Me Anything). It’s no surprise that in addition to r/castiron, r/bento, and r/bonsai, I’m also a reader of r/sex, r/sexover30, and r/sexover40 subreddits.

Recently on an r/sex post, there was a woman that had sex for the first time. It was such a terrible experience for her that she cried on the car ride home. I felt bad for her and many Redditors rushed to her with aid, support, and advice.

Get so hot and bothered that you want to fuck on a deep and primal instinctual level.

Advice they gave her ranged from “the first time will always be bad, but now you have a baseline to get better” to “remember you can say ‘no’ at any time,” but there was one piece of advice that stood out for me, it was this:

“My best sex tip is to let it be a slow burn. Kiss until you’re super turned on. Move on to touching and foreplay, maybe oral. If this goes well and you’re still super turned on, keep teasing until you want them so bad you can’t wait another second before PIV. That’s the trick: Get so hot and bothered that you want to fuck on a deep and primal instinctual level. (emphasis mine, link here)

Kissing, the Slow Burn

Kissing, just saying that world might conjure up memories of a hot make-out session or a tender but deep soul-stirring in the throes of passion. Whatever memories it stirs for you, you will remember the best and worst ones.

Kissing to me is deeply intimate and I tend to categorize it into four main buckets. The hot kiss, the slow burn, the plain old kiss, and the perfunctory kiss.

If you and the person you are kissing remain aligned, sex will come soon afterward.

Let’s start with the last one. the perfunctory kiss is just a kiss you exchange with someone because you think it’s expected of you. There’s no passion or real emotional connection behind it, much like the woman’s first experience showed. The guy kissed her, stuck his dick in, and everything was over in 20 minutes.

Often when marriages or relationships start to wither, it’s the perfunctory kiss that’s the canary in the coal mine. For whatever reason, the kisser is going through the motions of what society expects of him or her to do. The emotional connection is gone.

The next kiss is the plain-old kiss. This one isn’t bad, it’s like when grandma kisses her grandkids or you give a kiss on the cheek to a friend you haven’t seen in a while. It indicates an emotional bond but to varying degrees. Grandma loves her grandchildren more than you might your long-lost friend, but there is some emotional connection to both these situations.

Before we get to the slow burn kiss, let’s get to the hot kiss. These are some of my favorite ones but they tend to come at the beginning of a relationship. You meet someone, you connect, you can’t stop thinking about them, and then you kiss for the first time.

BOOM! The stars align, the world moves, and you can’t get enough of each other’s lips. You can feel the heat rising inside your body and the hormones are raging. If you and the person you are kissing remain aligned, sex will come soon afterward.

The last one, the slow burn kiss, is perhaps the most important one for any relationship. It’s what comes after the hot kiss and you’ve had sex. It’s the kiss that keeps that fire you found yourself consumed in, burning. Sure the fire dies down over time, and it does — ask anyone with kids — but you should be able to stoke the coals at a moment’s notice. This applies to both (or more) partners in the relationship.

In my relationship with my wife, the slow burn kiss is the one I give to her on her neck or shoulders. Her slow-burn kiss to me is a lingering one on my lips. Those kisses communicate so many things that can’t be said, and well, set us in a mood for sexy time later.

That slow burn kiss works for us but yours will be different for you because everyone is different. This is why you need to understand your partner/lover more than just “penis goes into vagina (PIV), kiss a few times, and be done with it.” Assuming you’re a cis-het couple.

Instead, do as the Redditor advised, “Get so hot and bothered that you want to fuck on a deep and primal instinctual level.”

Yes, Virginia, It’s Better To Be Alone Than Miserable

Photo by Sandie Clarke on Unsplash

Love is great, but happiness is best.

My parents are miserable. They’re miserable because they’re together with each other and there is no more love between them. They don’t hate each other, they’re more like roommates that fight and complain all the time, and they’re in failing health.

My sister and I grew up in a normal dysfunctional family.

Some people would say, “They’re like an old married couple! How cute!” Yes, they’re an old married couple. My mother is 83 and my father is 78, but it’s not cute and they should’ve divorced 30 years ago. They’re not happy with themselves and each other.

I love my parents, they’re great humans individually and love me and my sister deeply, they just don’t love each other anymore and it’s quite clear for all to see.

I don’t know when the love died between them but when it did they did what any old school, religious, European couple does in situations like this, they stayed together for the kids.

My sister and I grew up in a normal dysfunctional family. My mother joined the Jehovah’s Witness cult when we were very young. My father, on the other hand, was a heavy alcoholic. I’m not sure if one thing contributed to the other but they were related.

There were fights (massive blowouts), passing out on the couch, religious righteousness, and lecturing. We had a pretty good life on the outside, a great neighborhood to live in, food, house, clothes, and a yearly vacation down to the Jersey Shore. On the inside, it was pure chaos.

Instead of waiting to die, they might’ve been ecstatic to live.

We never said “I love you” to each other. I think we all understood it tacitly but I certainly didn’t hear my parents say it to each other.

It wasn’t until I was in my early 20’s that I realized they were miserable. My sister and I talked about how they should get a divorce. We thought it should be “now or never” since we’re both out of the house now and their excuse for staying together for the kids became moot, but it never happened. They stayed married and became more miserable with each passing year.

Little did I know that their dysfunctional relationship would imprint itself on my sister and me. I couldn’t navigate relationships well and had to deal with some heavy cult deprogramming over the years, but I realized something really important along the way

Love is great, but happiness is better. It is better to be happy first before you find love and be in love. It is better to be happy and alone than to be miserable and in a relationship.

My father is in very ill health. He’s barely hanging on these days and I’m sensing he’s looking to die to get away from my mother. I love the man dearly but how sad is that? Each one blames the other one for their misery.

I imagine what it would’ve been like if they did divorce those many years ago. Maybe my father and mother would’ve had a shot at another relationship, one that made them truly happy?

Instead of waiting to die, they might’ve been ecstatic to live. Either on their own or with a new partner. Granted, this is a nice dream but it’s made me realize a few things about my relationship with my wife along the way.

Don’t just say “I love you” perfunctorily, say it if you mean it. Then show your partner the love you have for them. There’s a big difference between mechanically fucking and ‘blow the socks off’ making love.

Kissing is important. Not just for you and your partner, but for others that might be watching too. We have two children and we like to steal kisses now and then. Unknowingly, we’re signaling what a healthy relationship (in our case hetero-normative) means to our children.

Another big thing is focusing on your happiness first. When two (or more) happy people come together and bond physically and emotionally, it can make for some explosive — in a good way — experiences. In our case, it shows to our children that your happiness comes first and anyone that tries to steal it from you is not someone you should become entangled with.

Yes, relationships are tricky and messy sometimes, but they shouldn’t be hard. Relationships are like gardens and happiness is the work you put into it. You build a garden, till the soil, and then you get to choose what to plant in it. You nurture the vegetables and flowers till they bloom and bear fruit. Along the way, you remove the weeds, water the garden, and eventually harvest (love).

My metaphor becomes so much sweeter if your partner(s) feels the same way you do and together you enlarge the garden. This is definitely something you should ponder on.

Now, plan your garden and get dirty.

A Brownstone in the City

Photo by berenice melis on Unsplash

I drove past your old apartment yesterday. I didn’t mean to but I found myself there by accident. I remember the Brownstone you lived in, I glanced up to the second floor window. I remember sharing a cigarette with you in your room, both of us naked and blowing the smoke out the window.

moss grows 
old tree stump 
memories remain

Summer of 1994. The City was hot and we were young and hungry. Hungry for life and insatiable for experiences. After work you took me to see the Lunachicks at some dive bar in the Lower East Side. Gay wrestling porn on the TV over the bar as the singer screamed Jan Brady.

We drank and smoked. You pushed me up against the wall and kissed me hard. Our mouths searched for that elusive soul connection. Closer, it’s closer than it was ever before.

rain drop — 
ripples race across 
a pond

Stumbling back to your apartment we raced to your room and fucked like animals. Your window was open, the sounds of sex and the City mingled in the humid air. It hung there, unresolved and impending.

new baby 
all mothers gather 

In the morning we made love. We cherished each sensation, each kiss, each touch. With every embrace we tried to push it away. It was coming. We both knew it. A crossroad in both our lives came that summer morning.

With bewildered looks, we chose our directions.

I drove past your old apartment yesterday and I know you’re no longer there. You have a life and so do I. We traveled our own path with twists and turns…

…but I wonder what it would’ve been like if that summer morning never came.

6 feet down
the darkness