Praising God While Having Sex: Faith From The Bedroom

“I’m finding new ways to praise God while I’m having sex with my husband.”
– Tiarra, married 3 years

This statement stopped me in my tracks last Friday.

As the snow cascaded down in Dallas, I listened to my new, vivacious friend Tiarra talk about her passionate conviction that her love making and her love of God are deeply intertwined.

And I realized how much I feel the same. And how I imagine most people wouldn’t realize what a strong, spiritual background I come from.

If you only know me as an outspoken sexuality coach, you may not know that my spiritual life growing up in Plano, TX, included a living relationship to a very personal God. In my parents’ home, when I woke up, I thanked Jesus for a good night’s sleep. Before my mother died, while we were still eating dinner as a family, we took turns giving thanks around the table. After we ate, yup, we gave thanks again before doing the dishes.

I even have rather humiliating memories of standing outside of a movie theater as a pre-teen holding hands as a family while my Dad insisted on having a prayerful movie debrief (evidently there had been a lot of violence in that movie).

As an adult, not much has actually changed. I still like to do prayerful rituals at movie theaters. I still pray before meals. I talk to God now while driving my lovely new car and yes, still before bed.

I also work as an Orgasmic Intimacy Coach and feel passionate about teaching women and men how to have greater sensation, connection and aliveness in their physical and relational intimacy.
In my world, these two parts of me stem from the same source: a love and gratitude for being alive and a commitment to feeling and surrendering to my full power and connection to something greater that moves through me.

Last Friday talking to Tiarra I was reminded of this connection. And the importance of having an out loud dialogue about the bridge between our church/synogogue/ashram/mosque-going selves and our bedroom selves.

I’m afraid most often those two seem very separate. As if sex is wrong or impure but going to our place of worship is righteous and shows our faith.

I think sex is right. I think God is right. And I think we can integrate our love of the God of our understanding with our love of pleasure in intimate, sexual connection, with intentional education and courageous dialogue to challenge old assumptions.

In fact, I think we must.

Here’s what I have learned. Sexuality cut off from my spiritual awareness has lead me into unhealthy relationships where more shame has piled on. Spirituality cut off from my sexual self often doesn’t find its way into my day to day life and body and can be a source of separation rather than a source of connection. So much is missing in this separation.

I see my teaching of sexual wellness in Dallas as a bridge between the two.

I have a feeling my friend Tiarra is going to be part of that dialogue. As we spoke last week she went on to add:

“Why would the one area where I am the most intimate be the area where I don’t bring my faith? You are missing a component if you do that.

Everything is work, is the good work. But you have to invest. It’s not an involuntary act. I can take my clothes off and be open and relaxed and enjoy that. What other thing could that be but a gift straight from God?”

I couldn’t agree with her more.

September 16th & 17th, 2017, I am co-teaching a two-day workshop for integrating our sexual selves with the rest of us. Our relational, emotional, psychological, physical and yes, our spiritual selves. The class is called “Conscious Orgasm”. It feels vital that we find the ways, as Tiarra so beautifully put it, to use our sex to heal, nourish and celebrate our connection to the divine. If you yearn for this too, join us.

Conscious Orgasm: A Weekend Sexuality Experience

How My Pussy Prepared Me To March

It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen pussy before.


To the contrary, having dated women throughout graduate school, I was definitely more familiar than most with being close to another woman’s body. So it couldn’t have been just the mere fact of pussy that made that spring morning in Austin in 2012 so impactful.


Looking back, I think the reason it shook me down to my bones to see her pussy that day was that I had never really seen a pussy for the sake of just seeing a pussy.


For the sheer purpose of being present with another woman’s sexual body.


But, really, no one does this.


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My First Vipasssana Retreat and Why You Should Never Do This

woman-meditating-into-herselfInitially the proposition seemed appealing. Attend a 10-day silent meditation retreat at the end of a tumultuous summer with five of my closest friends. Living in Dallas, we live less than an hour away from The Southwest Vipassana Meditation Center in Kaufman, Texas, a modest cluster of buildings on 34 acres of agricultural land that draws would-be meditators from across the country. For the last two years I have witnessed community members who have come back from the course and raved of the benefits. It seemed like it was finally my turn.

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It’s Time to Put My Gun Down


hanging on letting goALLOWABLES

By Nikki Giovanni

I killed a spider

Not a murderous brown recluse

Nor even a black widow

And if the truth were told this

Was only a small

Sort of papery spider

Who should have run

When I picked up the book

But she didn’t

And she scared me

And I smashed her


I don’t think

I’m allowed

To kill something

Because I am



When the news broke about the recent shootings in Dallas last Thursday, my heart froze. I found out when my friend Saul messaged me on Facebook.

“Turn on the news”, he wrote. “There have been attacks”.

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We Gather In A Circle: A Meditation on Leadership

Ever since grade school I have gravitated to leadership. Yep, I was that kid. The one who always got A’s, was quietly liked by most and ran for and got elected to Student Council President and Class President in the spaint handsame year. I was 12. I still hadn’t menstruated. I wore big, horn-rimmed glasses and my hair was usually frizzy.

Being a leader began for me by watching my parents, especially my mother. During my years in Catholic grade school, Mom served as the head of our Brownie troop, the founder of our community prayer group, Founder and Editor of a newsletter on parenting and Director of the Adolescent Treatment Program at our family’s non-profit substance abuse treatment center in Richardson. It seemed to me that my mom could handle anything. I always saw her as a Superwoman. Continue reading…

Orgasmic Meditation & Grief

This post was originally written on May 29, 2015.

I’d like to share something here about my grief process of late. Sunday, a very close friend of mine died in a car accident. No warning, nothing in her life indicated the end was near. A car hit her and she was gone.OM & grief

You might think that Orgasmic Meditation – or OM for short – and grief have nothing to do with one another. But that’s not my experience.

When I read the news by text Monday afternoon, I immediately threw my phone down and crumpled to the floor. The news hit me, the way news like this hits. Like a stinging electric shock. Like my vision blurring. Like my skin prickling. As if it was coming unglued from my body.

But something marvelous followed.

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You Mean You Wish To Surrender to Me?

My favorite line from The Princess Bride, my favorite childhood movie, begins like this.

“Surrender!” commands Prince Humperdink, as he and his henchmen surround a battered Westley and Buttercup as they limp out of the woods of the infamous Fire Swamp. With a poise that makes this scene immanently endearing, the bleeding, ragged Westley quips to the opponents who outnumber him, “You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept”.

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A Simple Gateway To Get Them To Really Hear You

arms wrapped around black and yellowIt usually starts the same way. One of us has something difficult to share. It’s like a hot potato, difficult to hold. We toss it about, circling the conversation before eventually blurting some news to the other that lands like a burning coal we didn’t see coming. Ouch! Damage is done. And we spend hours on the cleanup. And then I think, if only he had helped me warm into it, the heat wouldn’t have burned. I actually like it hot, when I choose it.

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Choosing Your Own Shoes: An Intimacy Coaching Lesson

butterfly shoePublished in the January 2016 edition of Mystic Mandala Experience.

A simple tenet uniting all of us in holistic wellness is that we all want to feel good. Seems obvious! To have harmony with our spouses. To have that cute guy or girl call you back. To be running a bustling business. To wake refreshed each day. I know that’s what I want! And I want the people I work with in my intimacy coaching practice to have that too.

But though simple, having what we want is often not easy. Impediments abound. In my sessions and workshops I help my clients “unblock” whatever is in the way of them living the life of their desires. One of the main obstacles I regularly see is a phenomenon let’s call, “waiting for the other shoe to drop”. It goes something like this.

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