My Dangerous Beauty

There are some pleasures which take on a distinctly original flavour when enjoyed alone.  One of those, for me, is the breakfast cappuccino, downed before anyone else has reached the kitchen.

I make it myself, me and my cappuccino machine, a regular morning exercise, a ritual of pure pleasure, every gesture a vital ingredient.  Switch on, screw off the black hubcap and fill the belly of the machine with filtered water (coffee is my chosen poison, not tap water).  Screw back the cap and grind some fresh Sumatran.  Let the aroma curl round your nose.  Fill the coffee container, swivel into position, and wait.

Those three or four minutes of waiting, that’s when we begin to savour each other.  The coffee knows I am there, flitting about with an eye on it, and it distils my anticipation into the brew.

Whatever I busy myself with for that gap in time, the taste of what is to come is already on my tongue.

Of course, I could give it up any time; but like any addict, I don’t see the point.  How delicious the waiting is, bitter-sweet.

When she starts to hiss, I know it’s time, and I turn the knob that lets the dark juice flow, thick and pungent, into the cup.  The cup matters.  A cappuccino needs the right cup.  It needs to be large and wide, almost a small bowl.  In fact, sometimes a bowl will do perfectly.  If it’s a cup, a stout one works best, like the thick green china ones they use in France, the ones with corners, octagonal, I think.  Then, it’s good for the cup to have quite a thick lip, to hold the froth even when the liquid is right up to the edge.

So the water squeezes through the pulverized beans and into the light of day, black nectar now, with a hint of venom, a sting in its tail.  But I like to hide its bite in frothing white milk.  It is seething already in its jug under the steamer, that long silver spout which breathes like a dragon and drowns for a few seconds every other sound in the day.  I withdraw the cup with its shiny black syrup, fill it to the brim with fluffiness and bubbles, and now a cappuccino puffs up, all white with brown veins, the lips smacking already and savouring the swell of it.

With two hands I take it, like a fateful draught in some rare chalice, and we become one body, the cappuccino and I.

Don’t you just love the way that Roger Housden describes the pleasure of his morning Cappuccino in Soul and Sensuality.  It is important to embrace the simple pleasures of life with as much attention and allow it to awaken your bodily pleasure.

Yearning is a difficult word for me to relate to these days.  I used to believe the words of David Deida about ‘yearning’.  These days I question the validity of it being a constant disposition.  I also question it from a place of what does yearning really mean? 

Yearning can in fact mean a ‘deep longing tinged with tenderness or sadness’.  It suits the drama of a woman’s life, to participate in saturate herself in the yearning of her life.  It’s a no win situation.

I know the impact my yearning has had on me.  I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it to any woman as a constant practice.  I wouldn’t recommend demonstrating it to men, unless you have a man who has truly claimed and committed in heart to you.

When my yearning ‘yearns’ to express itself, I do so whole-heartedly in the company of good women and it’s soul full beauty is truly magnificent.

I do not try and live it in anymore as a constant.

Our yearning is designed to be ’unanswered’.

What is more important is to live in the place of the unknown pregnant possibility.  Live in it’s richness and potentiality, full and complete like a resplendent empress.  Be a woman in the paradise of creation.

Our yearning churns in the direction of negative polarity.  It’s like an imploding black hole.

Yearning is contradicatory to the work of ‘Abraham-Hicks’ teachings for example.  If you are wanting to create and use the Law of Attraction don’t yearn.

To give your yearning in an intimate sexual embrace to a man who has ‘claimed’ your heart and body.  Your yearning can call forth his heart and body into deeper communion.  Your yearning in those moments is designed to call your beloved husband into the depths of your oceanic love.

If you want to be ‘claimed’ then when being with a man who has not claimed your heart you may want to demonstrate your yearning sparingly.

It is important to tame our own ’romantic’ fantasy of yearning and to be in the disposition of the resplendent empress is more soulfully satisfying.

with deep love

Liana