The Ars Amorata is about feeling alive, virile, passionate. Full-blooded engagement with the world around you.
Is it about women? Yes. No. Yes. No…t really.
It is easy to get lost in women.
That’s not what we’re about.
Here is the crux of the human condition: when I don’t feel alive, vital, passionate, or engaged, I start to believe that these qualities I wish I had exist in the world outside.
If only I had a woman with a Nicki Minaj ass… then I would feel passion.
If I only quit my job and became a yacht captain, then I would feel passion.
If only I would move to Colombia, then I would feel passion.
I mean, if you did become a yacht captain, sailed to Cartagena, and snagged enormous booty on your first night, you would feel passion. It would blow your mind. After all, every lover knows that tropical night air is the greatest aphrodisiac. For a while.
But, like all things, the high wears off. (And from someone who’s escaped to Colombia-like countries multiple times, it wears off quicker than you’d think.)
If you make getting a certain woman, or succeeding in some career high, or living in a certain place the source of your aliveness, you’re in a weakened position. You will only feel passion as you encounter success. Failure in any of these pursuits—and I’m perpetually failing in life when I compare my situation to the peak of my daydreams—and I live in a state of extenuated grey.
Our libido gets locked up in our fantasies. We sell ourselves lifestyle porn.
I wish I had a girl like that…
When I get my business to the next level, then I’ll take some time for my interests…
I can’t wait to go on vacation this year…
… I would feel much more alive if my life was simply different.
The more I project the force of my passion into the future, or onto some external person, the less alive I feel in the now.
The more I wish I was someone (or somewhere) else, the less compelling I become to others around me. (Charisma drain.)
And the more vulnerable I became to longing, chasing, and getting caught up in the slipstreams of people—coaches, gurus, dangerous friends and ungraspable women—who appear to embody the trait I want.
I used to be attracted to really passionate women, the alive ones, butterflies, slightly wild, and ALWAYS beyond my reach. I’d chase them hard and, lacking contact with my own deep vitality, I’d offer them my greatest (non-passionate) assets. Yes, I tried to seduce passionate women with softness, listening, care. My own vitality hidden and numb, I became a bit of a white knight. I coaxed a few into short relationships, but never got my needs met. Feeling an absence of passion inside me, I was beguiled by the spectacle of other people, and I jumped from one country to the next, seeking the next hit of that high called PASSION.
It’s no good to project passion onto a woman. When it doesn’t work out, she takes the supply of your vitality away.
Imagine an alternative universe where you’re the embodiment of red-blooded engagement, a force of erotic nature, and you share this gift as a simple overspill of who you are.
Like all spiritual qualities, though, you don’t need an alternative life. Passion lays within you.
Now we’re talking. See if you can find the location of it. It’s like speculating for oil.
The particular flavour of life-force energy I call passion originates in the pelvis and hips. Un-caged, it would unfold up your spine, opening your heart, filling your voice, your eyes, your aura, with its aliveness. You’d feel more inspiration than you would inhibition, and your essence would penetrate the world.
Yet for most of us, we lock our passion away in our pelvis and hips, which encase it like an iron girdle. Shame, discomfort, fear, plus the sheer rust of decades, make up the conditioning that keeps it down.
Our online lives—thinking in the cloud, long days in office chairs—don’t help. And then, come date night, we comb our hair in the mirror and expect our vitality to magically turn on?
I once had a client who didn’t know what a pelvis was. I have men who don’t realise they’re attracted to a woman until days or weeks later, when finally their minds catch up to the numbed-out wisdom of their hips (and the woman is long gone). I’m also a recovering stiff—my leg sockets were so tight I used to walk like a penguin.
If only someone had taught me, as a teenager, how to stretch correctly, and how to tolerate the dizzying energy that releases when you un-tap your lower-moving energy. I would have processed my fear and sexual shame. I would have rescued my vitality from my world of thoughts and fantasies, and I would have spread that energy throughout my body. I would have become the presence of sexual charisma… much, much sooner.
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Come And ‘Find’ Your Passion
We tend to think that passion exists on the outside of ourselves, because we don’t feel it within.
On our custom Amorati.me platform, you can find a special, dedicated Masterclass to this topic.
With a mix of physical practices, shamanic and releasing process, and partner-work, you will walk through a full embodiment experience, as part of a group. You will leave this session feeling differently about your body, your hips, and the nature of your creative-erotic energy.
Whether you suffer from too much sexual energy (horniness), and you want to balance that into a concentrated, virtuous force…
Or whether you have too little vital energy in you (shriveled up from sexual shame, too much sitting, or lack of use)…
… then join me.
And we’ll turn your relationship to passion inside-out.
Sign up by clicking the image below.
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