How are you responding to life lately?

There’s the stress response:  constantly multitasking, always feeling behind, not sleeping, downing caffeine to compensate… basically my life for the month of August. Not so sexy.

There’s the relaxation response: slowing the breath, quieting the thoughts, letting the tension in the muscles dissolve. Sexier for sure, but so polar opposite of the stress response that it can be hard to get there…basically my life so far in September. 

I’m weary from swinging manically between the two. I want to feel more balanced, more sensually integrated.

I want the sexy response.

The sexy response is somewhere between the other two~excited, productive and fired up about life, but maintaining a sense of awareness, ease and sexiness about it all.

This is my mission for October.  

Since my man and I are long distance until November, I’ll be cultivating the sexy response for myself and then letting it ooze out to him through texts, e-mails and lust letters.

I’ve just coined this phrase so I’d love your ideas on how best to achieve it.  This is what I’ve come up with so far for me:

Sleeping in a few mornings a week, reading erotica, fantasizing. (Note to self: check batteries in vibrator)

Displaying my teddies and lingerie gowns on the hooks beside my bed so I wear them. Besides, they are all so pretty, like pieces of art, and way too fabulous to be crammed in a drawer.

Slowing down and savoring my evening meal with a glass of wine or candlelight or both.

Luxuriating in a hot bath with essential oils a few nights a week.

Allowing myself the time to sink into my yoga and meditation practices, if even for just 15 minutes.

Cultivating gratitude every day.

What subtle changes would help you engage the sexy response?

Four years ago when my man was offered a job as cougar researcher in N. E. Oregon, one thing kept us from immediately pouncing on the opportunity.

Our sexy love nest.

My man, always the voice of adventure, came up with this: We can’t let the cabin keep us from getting out and seeing the world.

He was right.

But after three years in Oregon,  I, the Cancer Crab who loves her shell, came up with this: It’s silly to have such an amazing piece of property fifteen hours away and not be able to use it.

I was right.

It’s been a complicated and at times grueling process making our way back to Colorado and I’m physically, emotionally and spiritually spent from the effort.

So last Friday night I turned my back on all the unpacked boxes and headed to the cabin which is now only forty minutes away.  It was dark by the time I arrived, so I crawled into the loft with my bad boy breed.  We were both snoring within minutes.

When I woke up in the morning, I opened my eyes to a dazzling display of golden aspen leaves pressed up against the window.

I reached out and touched them through the glass.

Golden coins for my sexy piggy.

Where do you go to replenish your sexy?
Years ago I met a professional ballet dancer and her philosophy on eating was this: the fresher the energy going in, the fresher the energy coming out.

I’ve come up with a sexy corollary: the sexier the energy going in, the sexier the energy coming out.

I had this epiphany when my man and I were processing an elk and I was up to my elbows in blood-red burger meat.

Elk meat is sexy.

There are the obvious reasons. It’s lean, wild, free-range, and free of pesticides and hormones.

But consider this:  Hunting season is in the fall, during the rut, the time of year when bull elk are fired up to mate.  They bugle and snort and throw their racks around challenging other bulls to a duel to see who gets to impregnate an awaiting herd of cow elk in estrous.

That’s a lot of primal sexual energy simmering in our elk fajitas.

If you are what you eat, and we eat a lot of elk meat, it’s no wonder I write erotica. It’s no wonder my man and I crave wildness and felt claustrophobic living in a close-quarters neighborhood in Northeast Oregon.

Our lives suddenly make sense! This past year, we’ve often questioned why we we’ve been so compelled to leave sweet Oregon and my man’s job with a steady paycheck and benefits.

It’s the elk. 

And gratefully, the freezer is full again.

Sexy Prod:

As I made my final exit from Northeast Oregon last week, plums and peaches were hanging ripe and luscious from the trees. All you gardeners, fisherman, berry collectors, farmer’s market aficionados… tell me about your sexy harvest.




Two weeks.

Two trucks packed with two lives and two businesses

Two neglected Colorado properties.

Two elk tags.

Too much work.

Too little pleasure.

Now two months apart.

In two different states

Too long.

To long.