Holy naked us

Tales from the Tribe: A guest post by Rachael Maddox, part of the spring 2011 tribe. Read more of Rachael’s stories here.

spa world

i was naked in a
house of baths
steam and sweat
women all around me
each, unique in body
and i kept trying not to stare
at each nipple
at each flab of sag shaped ass
at each curl of protective pubes
or vagina in the nude

but i could not stop
my staring
my laboring
my longing
to know what was
still below
all that nothing

in the afternoon
i was labored upon
a korean woman in a leopard print
bra
scrubbed my body for a whole 30 minutes
under my arm pits
in the cleavage of my tits
just under my ass
inside my ankles
occasionally washing clean
the dead debris of me
with a warm bucket of
water
and perhaps
a few splashes of love
going deeper
and deeper
to layers of me
untouched

near the end of that scrub
after most of the dead had
been raked away,
and i was left naked
in a whole new way
my mind almost opposed
any more shedding
any more touch
the sensations
almost
too much to bare

there was pain
which is not exactly saying much

there was discomfort
an almost strange breath-holding
like looking at a contemporary painting
that makes you bend your neck
just to see it straightly

there was wondering when it would end
the warm washcloth over my eyes
making it easier to disguise that
my smile had become
more tainted

but then, at the very end
i took a deep breath
i realized it was almost over
and suddenly,
there was wanting it to last
past hesitation
past righteous reclamation
of my body
past all my fear of
someone touching
me
in truly untouched
places

there was
that moment
strange and delightful
eternal
there

when i stopped caring
that a stranger
was inside
my solitude

when i stopped
asking
her to leave

when i let her
really be with me

and after,
i wanted to go around
and blow eye kisses
to all the naked women
in that spa,
to set up a booth
for answering any pending questions
about whether or not
their holiness
shines
through
their bare bodies

i wanted to look at my very own flesh
and offer the softest sweetest touch
like a mother with a brush
combing my locks
in the morning before school

i wanted to be the kind of person
that could scrub away at
that could be scrubbed away to
the most raw
and tender
self
and upon arrival
breathe
eye to eye
stay
not letting fear get in the way
of being someplace
terrifyingly new
together.

~~~~~

I sometimes think that if we could figure out this one thing–the process of being with what’s terrifying and new–of staying eye-to-eye, intimately, with the unknown–well, the whole wide world just might explode into orgasm. And wouldn’t THAT be lovely?

What’s it like for you to enter into new territories with yourself, with others? When do you notice yourself shutting down, shying away, shirking back?

How would your world change if you stayed a few moments past your place of comfort, when face-to-face in a moment of deep intimacy?

I’m sending a mega dose of cosmic courage into the world today, that we might all stay a few moments past our fear, to discover the gift of surrender, to experience the profound inside-out shaking and rattling, which is a pure sign of something powerful waking up from a long, long sleep.

And yeah–this is that booth… Any pending questions about whether your holiness can be seen through your bare body? It can. It can. SERIOUSLY. Call me if you have any doubt. I’ll invite you to kiss yourself in all your tender territories.

I love you.

madly,
rachael

PS–I meant it about the call me part. I have way too much love to pass out and not enough places to put it. True story. <3