words are foreplay for the soul

Archive for the ‘Love’ Category

August 21st, 2014 by Akua




I am reborn.

The birthing process took far longer than I ever imagined — two years and counting — but oh so worth it. I now live less than a mile from a sunny warm beach. I feel welcomed into the warm embrace of loving community. My yoga body looks strong. And I feel very loved.

A year ago last night I stood in the center of a circle of love, pledging to spend the rest of my days (then still an even more uncertain number than for most of us) with my beloved Mister Splashy. A year is a long time. It’s been a lifetime already, these past 365 days and the 365 before that. Two lifetimes ago there was a real possibility I would die within weeks. Now I love one moment at a time, and each moment stretches into eternity.

I suspect this is how we are meant to live — this full-breathed YAWP, inhaling gulps of fresh wonder in each moment, falling in love with every pair of eyes-connected-to-a-heart that I meet.

I have a secret.

Life is meant to be fun, a carnival ride, a glorious adventure.

I rose from the ashes of She Who Came Before, and I stand aflame now and ready to embrace even more yum, even more breath, even more possibility. Life beckons. It’s what you do with your moments that counts.


August 17th, 2012 by Akua

Kahuna + Akua = a Grand Love Story

About a year ago, my soulmate and I made special love names for each other. We actually did research on this. We looked at sites filled with love nicknames. We looked at sites filled with names from other countries and other traditions. Finally we found the right names.

Akua = spirit, goddess.

Kahuna = wise man or shaman.

I think we are still claiming the full power of our names. But I look at my soulmate and I see Kahuna, even if he does not see it fully himself.

This is what happened. I got cancer. I thought it healed. It didn’t and came back. Far, far worse. Terminal. And my soulmate, my Kahuna, has determined to make this his grand story. I am his grand story, he says. He has been looking for one, wanting a grand story in his life, and here it is. Kahuna is loving me into life. Read the rest of this entry »

July 26th, 2012 by Akua

Mrs. Splashy

Yes, I am 5 years old.

Apparently I sometimes like to be exuberant with water. I notice this most when doing the dishes (he is The Chef and I am The Dishwasher, an arrangement that pleases me greatly) and I come away from the sink with the front of my shirt all wet.

I didn’t used to be that way.

Once I lived with a man who was horribly splashy. In hotels, I’d dive into the bathroom first and shower, neatly toweling off before stepping on the bathmat, so I could avoid the Tsunami Aftermath of that man’s showers. I hate stepping on wet floors in socks.

Another man was horribly splashy, but with food. “Look at me!” he’d yell while chopping, “I’m the Swedish Chef!”

“Not when it’s my house,” I’d grumble, knowing I’d be the one to clean up the ankle-deep carrot clippings, onion snarls, and ginger shards.

I hated splashy. Read the rest of this entry »

July 22nd, 2012 by Akua


I am sad and angry and scared.

There is this situation. It is pretty dire, the down-to-the-wire kind of thing that has major consequences unless some big changes are made and made fast. I wish I could say more but I’m not willing to. (hint: it’s financial)

The problem is my soulmate. He is not the problem. The problem is me. I am not the problem. The problem is that putting attention on fixing the dire situation has meant some radical shifts between us. It’s those shifts that have me feeling so sad and angry and scared.

What do you do when the person you love most in the world pushes you away in all the ways that trigger all your stuff, because his own stuff is triggered from years of not-dealing with the dire situation? He thinks I judge him, so he pushes me away. I feel angry and scared about being pushed away, and judge him for the way he pushes me away (I am not good with angry yelling, and as soulmate says I’d probably wither and die in an Italian family, whereas he’s clearly very Mediterranean slash what they call Black Irish, a formidable combination when it comes to angry yelling compared to the quiet passive-aggression of my Puritanic-Teutonic Celtic-Saxon heritage). More pushing, more judging.

In my world, Angry Yelling + Pushing Away = Not Loving. Read the rest of this entry »

July 12th, 2012 by Akua


It was about a year ago that the S-word was first used. Back then, it was under influence of a glass of red wine, or two glasses. I knew what was going on and let it unfold. Give it space. Let it breathe. If you are lucky, it will blossom. He needed time to feel that this amazing thing between us is real, that he didn’t just dream up the woman who loves him, and that he and I will be together in years to come, and more years, and more.

It’s hard to remember exactly how it felt a year ago, light-years now, because now is now. Today we sat with laptops, an entire room stretching between us. I wanted to touch him, feel his breath on my neck, taste his mouth. Instead, I looked at him. I looked love into him, as much as I could. He lets me love him this way, lets me love him with as much of me as I can.

This is what love is supposed to be.

I look at him and everything swells up inside, wanting to burst forth. I am overcome. Overjoyed. Abundantly blessed. No one has ever let me love them this much, has ever loved me this much. And every day there is more. Read the rest of this entry »

May 21st, 2012 by Akua

Crystal ball

The things I saw and heard in my head just about 18 months ago have all come true except one.

That last foretold possibility may take years and years to see fully through. I am okay with that.

Last night there was an eclipse. It was cloudy and we couldn’t see anything, but the quality f the light changed. Later, Soulmate and I sat on his bed, wine glasses nearly empty, a DVD paused in mid-flight, and we talked about the eclipse.

I remember the last time this happened, I said. 1994. I was in Pittsburgh.

I was driving to my office and hurried when the light in the sky began to change. Everything was golden, strange. The air felt different. Expectant. When I got to the office, they were all outside. I stood transfixed by the shadows on the ground cast by the leaves of the tree above. Each leaf, a perfect crescent cutout. The light was so strange. We looked at one another like something truly real — for the first time, maybe — was happening. And then it was over. The leaf-shadows grew into wholeness again. Read the rest of this entry »

November 7th, 2011 by Akua


He is a good, loving man. I have lived a long time in search of him, of the man who melts me, of the man who loves me like no other, of the man who is himself such a magical being that I weep from the beauty of his magic and from how magical I feel when I am with him. I have lived and I have loved and none of the life or love was like this. Destiny.

This man, the one I see my sunset with, the one I see in my dreams, the one I felt and knew and received months before we were ever even in the same city. This good, loving man. He feeds my heart, nourishes my soul, calls me to be my magical self, receives my inner being, my warrior queen nature.

And oh, how I love this man.

October 4th, 2011 by Akua


One year ago today, my life changed.

It happened in the evening. I was in Houston where a client had flown me to work with her and her clients for a week, Houston where it was still summer and still humid. I was in Houston still processing the recent formality to the inevitable slow painful unraveling of the previous three-plus years spent with a boy-man that morphed into ten teary shower minutes feeling what it might be like to be me if I had always felt loved. I was in Houston feeling my Self for perhaps the first time, my Self tall and pale among the Chinese community I stayed in and shopped in that week that cemented the sense of alienation and solitude I had brought with me.

It happened in the evening, in Houston. I was sleeping on the hard hotel bed and awoke, hard. I was no longer alone. I felt something with me — someone? — and it felt wonderful. A palpable presence. An energetic force. My heart twined the feeling into arms and lips and I lay curled on that hard bed, no longer alone. Loved.

The feeling followed me home. Read the rest of this entry »

September 13th, 2011 by Akua


“Living with you,” he said, “has been extraordinary. Extraordinary.” His heart filled his eyes for a moment, then became playful. “That’s a highlight for you, me saying that.”

Why yes. Yes it was a highlight, and in our morning coffee ritual the next day, feet on lap, I told him so.


1. Beyond what is ordinary or usual.
2. Highly exceptional; remarkable.

We have both lived with others. My experiences then were those of survival, maintaining, staying safe from being hurt, trying to assert control where I felt none. I wanted love but didn’t know how to ask for it. Or where to look. Or I stopped believing it was possible. I had love but it was fleeting. Or conditional. Or just muted, colorless, lifeless.

I think back now and remember exactly how I dreamed extraordinary into being. Did I do that? I hope I did. I told the universe that it was time my soulmate showed up. And then there he was, standing on a borrowed Seattle porch, and my heart said YES. This is what I said to the universe: Read the rest of this entry »

September 8th, 2011 by Akua


I have been unfair. Specifically, unfair in my last post. Unfair to what is really in front of me. I wrote from the place I am in — which to me in this moment seems vast and unconquerable — but not from the place I have been.

I have at my bedside a book containing now more than 200 elements of awesome, reasons for loving and living, and I forgot to look at it. Or think of it. No, in my inner emptiness I neglected to feel into the fullness of the Summer of Love, of my soulmate-beloved, and instead I saw the half-empty glass walls I had erected around me.

I lack integrity. It is a thing I am working on, coming smack up in my face time and again, but dammit, I am incomplete. I lack and the lackness is of my strength, or in plainer words, strength of character and faith is what I lack.

Integrity. Holding together. Structural goodness. Also, integration. I fly into pieces, chaotic, scattered, at the least provocation. My beloved hurts and retreats and I treat this as hurt to me, retreating farther. How dare I! Where did I go? And why? Read the rest of this entry »