Life of a Kept Woman

Letter from Millie

2005-10-30T05:22:00.000-08:00

Dear Oceana,

I read the message about your father's death and thought I wanted to send you something. A big meta-package filled with flowers and chocolate and ticket stubs and snapshots, a couple of almost empty wine glasses, 6 belly laughs, foot rub, one bad pun, a beautiful pen and an orchid for your desk - with yellow red dragon tongue petals that smells faintly of sweet adventure and rich wet earth.

You would be cossetted and cajoled and made a small but lovely fuss over. A bicycle ride near the ocean with a basket full of daisies, a warm baguette, non-oaky chardonnay and a wedge of imported cheese. A sparky fire beneath a a startling number of stars with a pumpkin colored cashmere warp and port. A window seat and a cool cool pane of glass, long slow rain, a cup of tea, one perfect cookie and a delicious novel. A good cry, with huge wrenching sobs and much Kleenex - the really soft kind, and after a warm bath, clean flannel pj's and your hair slowly finger -combed until you fell asleep. A kiss on the forehead and a rose for your bedside table.

Until we are together again, I hold these things in my heart for you.

With love, Millie.

A Passage

2005-09-26T09:27:00.000-07:00

My father died on Wednesday, September 21, 2005 at 5:23pm est.

I was there. I witnessed the whole the thing.

Our journey began on Thursday 9/15 when his kidneys shut down after a routine procedure to drain the fluid out of his legs. After a detailed explanation of dialysis, he decided that he was done. In fact, he had been saying that his quality of life was no longer fun for a couple of years. He wanted to go to the Bahamas and the Mardi Gra, and then he would be done with this life. He had had lots of adventures - some good, some bad. Mostly, he had wrung everything out of life that he could in a way that was entirely his own invention. He didn't play by rules. He had few regrets. He never missed an opportunity to speak his mind even after several strokes. His doctor told us that once the kidneys shut down, a person can survive for 5-7 days. They transferred him to a hospice center on Friday night. I told him he had to stay alive until Monday. He said, "okay."

I would not leave for Atlanta for another 3 days. Nonetheless, the journey had begun. I purposely told only the people for whom it seemed necessary or suitable. My instincts were to cocoon so I could have the experience as much as I could the way I wanted it. I suspected that upon hearing the news that most people would want to put their energy of contrived compassion and sadness in my space. However, I already felt the pull of a journey inwards to see what there was for me in this poignant life event.

Interestingly enough, I had said to my director at BPI only a few days before that I was really looking forward to the Erasure lectures. I jokingly told her that already someone had tried to sidetrack me with an invitation to a wedding, but I had laughed at the poultry attempt saying that it would take something much more like the death of a family member. Careful what you wish for. The Erasure lectures began the day after I heard the news, and as it turned out it was the perfect place to begin the journey. During my first aura healing, pictures and energy from my relationship with my father poured out of me. The healing and completion had begun. I told one person what was going on and she validated my ability to create such a experience. All during the workshop weekend, I felt his spirit hovering just outside my aura, taking notes. We were already companions.

My brother, his wife, and I left L.A. for Atlanta to be at his bedside on Sunday night. We took the red-eye. We stepped into his physical reality around noon on Monday. He was alert and on oxygen. I would a slight resentment of the sound of that machine over the course of the next 3 days.

The first day, we settled into our roles. My brother, Phil, handled all the logisitics having to do with donating his body to science and closing up his house. His wife, Nikki, was the nurturing support person, deferring all her desires to show-up for her husband and be kind to everyone else. I focused my attention on my father's care and comfort. We each talked to him, said our last piece. We did most of the talking. It was a lot of effort for him to say even a few words. I fell into a pattern of asking yes and no questions to which he could nod a response.

The hospice facility was slightly upscale with a dozen or so private rooms. His room was very pleasant. The TV was on continuously, just the way it would have been if he were home. In the afternoon, we opened the blinds to let the day light in. That seemed to make him happy. The hospice staff was nothing short of extraordinary. Every interaction was an impeccable mixture of deep warmth and pleasantness, professionalism, and respect. I spent long days there and they gave me all the space I needed to have my journey.

One of the first things I noticed about being with someone who is dying is that it is important to ground. They are very much between the worlds and it is easy to want to match them energetically. Also, their space is fragile. It seemed like a relief to him that I was able to maintain my own space and not get too much into his. Fortunately, I had just spent all weekend grounding, so it had become almost second nature. Being grounded also made it easier to deal with the myriad of energies that are involved in the process and still stay connected to your goal. Mine was to stay connected on some level to my father and his process.

Monday night I stayed at his bedside until about 11pm. Just about that time he said the last words he would ever say to me. "I'm 71.", he said. He seemed quite proud of that accomplishment. I acknowledged him for his adventures and generally good life. Later in my own bed at the home of my friends of the Atlanta Morehouse, I was running my energy and felt him watching taking more notes. I explained to him in my meditation how to ground. The next thing I knew we were getting communication from the Supreme Being that grounding was necessary for ending the karma and cutting the chords he had accumulated over his life time. He was shown how to do it expeditiously in no-time, no-space. This time I took notes. One of the many lessons I learned in this process was that it happens as you believe.

That night I had a familiar nightmare where an malevolent energy fills the room nearly paralyzing me with the weight of it. The object is to make it out of the room before I am consumed by it, which I always seem to do. I typically wake up with a foreboding feeling. This time I turned the light on and started reading Emoto's book, "The Messages of Water". I had heard about his work in the film "What the Bleep" and was fascinated by how his perspective and philosophy had changed as a result of his research into the nature of water. His work is based on the notion that water is alive and responds to verbal and visual messages as evidenced by the crystals that are formed when its frozen.

Tuesday I was met in the lobby by the nurse on duty who told me that his condition had changed dramatically over night. He was no longer responding to visual or verbal stimulus. The body of knowledge surrounding the dying process is surprisingly thorough and useful. I had read about the stages a person goes through when they are dying, so I had a good idea what to expect at each step. In any case, I was not surprised. It was clear to me that he was off on the astral doing his completion work. Indeed, when I went into the room, his eyes were vacant behind half-open lids. He was clearly not in the room. Phil and Nikki arrived a couple hours later. We sat together talking for a few hours with my brother mostly coming and going.

My father's body continued it's laborious efforts to pump oxygen and blood through its systems. Nikki and I were both extremely impressed by the body's will to go on relentlessly. The staff turns him about every 4-8 hours depending on the presence of the family. They make every effort to not interrupt family visits. Since we were basically camped out for most of the day and into the night, they would notify us. Their timing was amazing because it was usually about the time we were needing a break from our vigil. When we came back in, Nikki and I noticed that there was a change of expression on his face and his leg had a tremor. We began to wonder if he was in pain. The nurse came in and gave him some morphine and he seemed to relax. We discovered that they don't like to give the patients morphine when the family is around because it puts them to sleep. I told her that he must not be in any pain under any circumstances. I didn't want him to suffer on our behalf, nor did I want him distracted from his process of completing relationships and karma.

I stayed that night until nearly midnight watching TV at his bedside. He did not return to the room. Later in bed, I meditated a bit, and read some more of Emoto. I put my cell phone next to my pillow expecting to be awakened at any time by the good folks at the hospice center to say he had passed in his sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, Wednesday, I was surprised to not have received a call. During my medititation, I began to surmise that he was stauled in his process for some reason. I thought about the message in Emoto's book about how we can change the energy of something by the energy of our intention. I remembered that when Shakti's mother lay dying, they were playing a recording of Gurumayi singing Om Nama Shivaya continuously. Instantly, I knew that what was required was a change in the energy. I resolved to turn off the TV and sing or play upliftng devotional music to him that day. I had swiped a Deva Premal cd from Zoe to bring on the trip and had begun listening to it the night before on the way home. There is a cut on it that Alisha had explained to me the week before was used in sound healing. It's called "Om Namo Bhagavate" which is my favorite chant, and I particularly like her arrangement.

I played it continuously as a I drove to the hospice center. When I went into his room, he looked almost the exactly the way he did when I left the night before. So I turned down the sound on the TV and sat down next to his bed, touched his hand, and began singing Om Namo Bhagavate quietly. Almost immediately, he began returning to his body. His expression changed slightly and he lifted one of his eye brows. We were in communication. I kept singing. It was like a love song to his spirit. I started feeling transported to a higher realm. The love song began to include all there was. I sang specifically to his body-being at one point, and I could feel his body shift in gratitude and release. I was overwhelmed at times by how intimate, lovefilled, and blissful it felt to be in communion with him at this level. After awhile it wasn't just him, I saw 2 spirits, the transition team. They felt good and they seemed impressed and grateful that I had stumbled upon this key. I kept singing to and with him and them. The process had changed perceptibly. I sang a little louder. More spirits arrived, a welcoming committee. The energy was so high and sweet that at times I choked back tears because I knew it was working and it felt so good, so primal, so old, so right. I flashed to an understanding that this is how people get to the other side in the best of all circumstances, someone is singing them along the path. I kept grounding, golden suns, and singing.

I did this for about 15-20 minutes, and then Phil and Nikki arrived. I explained what I was doing and I asked if they had brought any of their contemporary Christian music. They had not, but they knew of a good radio station which I had also been listening to, so we turned that on. My brother continued coming and going while Nikki and I sat and talked. In the new energy, the level of our conversation became intimate and truthful. Through the course of a few hours, we fell inlove with each other. I had a new understanding of their family as well as a growing fondness for her daughter, Brittany, who I was finally willing to publicly acknowledge as my neice, a member of our family. I gained a new family that day.

In the early evening, my brother's restlessness became more than could be contained within the hospice center. He and Nikki announced they were going to the mall for awhile. When they left, I decided it was time to go back to chanting. I turned the radio off and took up residence at his side. But when I opened my mouth, I realized I couldn't remember the tune. So I went out to the car to play the cd for a minute or so to get the tune again. I was anxious to get back in, so I grabbed the cd and went back in.

When I got back to the room, his eyes and mouth were wide open and he was staring at a corner of the ceiling with an expression that resembled awe. More importantly he was perfectly still. Something in my chest caught, fear, "oh no, this is it!" I quickly grounded and started singing as I stood still at his bedside. I didn't think it was quite over, and there should be singing until the end, so I kept singing. He took another breath. He tried to say something. It felt like amazement for what was happening to him. I was back in communion with him. My sense was that he was becoming light. I kept breathing and singing. After a couple minutes, when it seemed that he was out of his body, I went and sat down on the other side of his bed. I needed a chair. I kept singing. In another minute or so his eye lids lowered slightly, and it was over. The upper half of the room was filled with light - his spirit and the others. We did it.

Just as I had the thought to go get someone to confirm death, my favorite of the nurse aides came into the room softly. She brought in the nurse and another nurse aid. I started to call my brother on my cell phone, but when I couldn't get a signal, I lost my ability to keep it together. The tidal wave of tears that had been welling up all day rolled over me.

It was over. We had all risen to the occasion with such grace and in the end it was the deepest most exquisite experience of my life.

Keeper's Perspective

2005-08-30T10:55:00.000-07:00

Wanted to bring this out from the archives from 4/2/05. It's a good reminder for me.

About now, many of you are thinking, "What's in it for the guy?" So I sat down with George to answer a few of your questions. If you have others, let me know, and we'll bring him back on the show. And now, here's George, the man who makes this lovely dream of a life possible . . . .

What’s in it for you?

Mostly I have a happy woman, which is pretty rare. And not that fake happy or indifferent. Really happy. It used to be that the best I could do was that the woman in my life was mostly not unhappy. What I found was that after the lovey-dovey phase wore off, it got pretty mediocre, pretty fast.

Do you ever feel like you’re doing all the work?

Sometimes. When you’re with a woman who really wants something, then the “doing” [producing it] is effortless. I used to discount the effect of a woman’s desire on my productivity. However, when I look back at the big things I was able to accomplish with relative ease, it seemed there was woman in my life who really wanted that done. A good recent example is when Oceana wanted to move out of the community in which we were living and into her own house, I was able to buy her a house within a matter of weeks with very little capital.

If you’re going to give her everything she wants, how do you get what you want?

Part of what she wants is for other people to have what they want, which includes me, of course. She wants me to be happy. It’s not much of a complement to have a miserable guy on her arm.

Also, we’re very much a team. Classically, you can have a woman by your side or at your throat. I feel like Oceana is at my back. We have common goals and values that have to do with pleasurable living. My goal is to get everything I want in life. The fastest way to do that is to gratify Oceana. For instance, I have always wanted to have a tandem bicycle. One of our favorite things to do is to spend time outdoors together. We used to hike frequently until it got to be too much of a challenge for Oceana. She told me that cycling was her favorite form of aerobic exercise because it had the least impact on her joints. When I suggested a tandem bicycle, she was very enthusiastic. Now, we ride together frequently, often in beautiful locations. Oceana’s happy and I didn’t just get my tandem; we got a custom built, high-end bike second-hand for a reasonable price from one of the first ads we saw from someone within 10 miles of our house.

One caveat, though, this model of gratifying a woman as a means to happiness for a man only works with someone who knows how to play the game. Believe me, I’ve tried it with women who weren’t players. This isn’t quid pro quo and it’s not a blank check. The expectation is that we have fun, she treats me with respect, and I only do what I want to do.

The Nature of Nice

2005-08-26T06:03:00.000-07:00

Not doing too bad with this blog now. Getting a new posting once a month . Funny how hard it is to write about a life that you're enjoying so much. Up until the last 5 years, I mostly used my journals, which I began keeping when I was 12 yo, to mull over the dicey times of my life.

At the end of July, we took a course at Lafayette Morehouse called the Fun of Nice. It was the first new course in over a decade. Cindy taught it with a few of her friends. It really was an incredible course. I can tell it's impact on me because I'm still thinking and talking about it. She described the nature of being nice as the opposite of phoney politeness. It's actually about inserting good into the world with every action and communication.

The capacity to insert good is an inside job initially. It begins with you. You have to feel good about yourself and treat yourself well with respect and care before you can give it to someone else. We've all heard this a million times. However, what I noticed during the course was how much my thoughts generated from low self-esteem tapes in my head prevented me from giving and receiving nice communications and actions. Even more surprising was how righteous I felt about my victim pictures having to do with race. I was saw how I was clinging to these pictures like the one ring in "Lord of the Rings". Even though my story and all my evidence about the very real horror of racism were preventing me from experiencing more goodness and love, I still couldn't let it go. It ruled most every interaction, my "precious" privileged status as a victim of racism. I realized I had missed a significant number of instances when someone was being nice to me or when I could have been nice to somenone else because of this "precious" right I felt I had to be a victim.

Niceness is not for the other person. It's for you. Every time I'm nice to someone, every time I do something good for someone; I get to experience directly as the source. This only works, of course, if I'm doing it from an authentic place. I have to already be standing in a place of feeling good about myself and have a surplus of good feeling to truly insert good into the world. Otherwise, it's just another polite gesture with strings attached or sacrifice of some sort.

To be in a good place requires the capacity to self-reflect, monitoring your thoughts and actions. How much of your thoughts are negative? From where did they originate? What could you do that would be more positive for yourself and then others? This kind of thing takes eternal vigilance as Vic used to say.

This has been the source of my biggest struggle and angst since the course. This seeing where I fall short. Worse, having George point out where I fell short because I was too blinded by my familiarity with meanness to see it for myself. Cindy said that while there is a continuum; basicially, if it isn't nice, it's mean. No one likes to think of themselves as mean. She said, it is a rare person who sets out to deliberately cause someone harm. Mostly people are mean by being unconscious of their negative impact on someone else; their unwillingness to deliberately pay attention to the person and do/say something nice to them. Occasionally, people are mean because they believe some right of theirs has been violated also. Brian said in the course, "It's the second bad that always sinks you."

Between noticing my own shortcomings and failure of others to treat me or anyone else with care and consideration, I have been in a general grumpy state since the course. Of course, I have made attempts to be more aware and be nicer to people. It's definitely a process. I notice that the closer the person is to me, the harder it is to be nice. It appears that expectations and rights are proportionate obstacles in the path. Cindy recognizes this from her own experience and admonished us all to start with the intention to be nice and not beat up on ourselves when we missed the mark [the second bad]. Instead trace down where you went wrong, learn, recall your intention, and keep going.

Intention. Eternal vigilance. Don't beat up on yourself. Be good to yourself. Keep going.

She says eventually it will become your nature. Everyone agrees she is living proof. So what is there to lose.

Havingness

2005-07-29T11:44:00.000-07:00

In May, I decided that I wanted to reclaim one of our downstairs bedrooms and bring in a live-in housekeeper. It seemed like one of those nearly impossible visions at the time. No one in my circle of friends had done it. Zoe thought it was a great idea, but I could tell she was a little skeptical since she didn't really have a picture for it. As for me, I had an intense desire to not be tied to the house and our care and feeding. I wanted to spend more time pursuing my clairvoyant program but I didn't want our lifestyle to suffer because of it.

Just like all visions I've had in the past, I just started talking about it to people who I thought could understand it and contribute some of their ideas and imagination. The idea slowly began taking shape. Careful to keep it safe from naysayers, it grew quietly in our minds.

In June, I decided to focus on my space of havingness, to take it up a notch, to create a space in which miracles could occur. I began with my first chakra and almost immediately my lower back blew out. Excruciating pain insued and for weeks, I could only comfortably stand or lay down. Sitting for more than a few minutes was cause for crushing muscle spasms. For a couple weeks, I looked and felt like hell. Nonetheless, I kept working the energy. I never stopped meditating. Even as I lay on my bed trying not to move, I knew it was just part of the journey.

Around week 3 , the clouds began to part. George was offered a large bonus from his employer and a regular monthly salary. It was such a generous surprise that we had to leave our home for a couple hours just to take it all in. My mother also sent me a large check for my birthday. I had made a birthday want list in the beginning of June, and suddenly it started to look like I could actually have the things on it. In the meantime, I had begun advertising for a housekeeper. I envisioned this as a role in our household where someone would clean and cook dinner for us Monday through Friday along with a few other occasional activities like party prep and clean-up. In exchange, they would receive free room and some board and our attention on them having a good life.

By the fourth week, I was celebrating my birthday in grand style - spa days, pedicure parties, a surprise birthday cake and celebration at Cabro, and cocktails and dancing at the Top of the Mark in SF. It was a whirlwind to behold. The best part about it was that it became the asigned author for so many of my friends to treat themselves to special adventures as well.

Momentum was definitely building. My back was still shakey with occasional pasms at the end of the day. In the following week, we made an offer to a young 20 year old massage student, named Alisha, to fill our housekeeping position which she happily accepted. One of the conditions was for her to take Basic Sensuality which she also happily accepted. It turned out to be a stroke of brilliance because not only was she able to get instructed in the basic tenets of our lifestyle, she also really enjoyed the class and the people of the Morehouse community. I also had a freak accident in our office at the beginning of this week. No less than 4 ribs were dislocated. Because our normal chiropractor was out of town, I had to go find a new one who turned out to be the answer to our quest to find a new chiropractor.

In the 6th week, after waiting for over 4 months we finally got to go to the UC Davis sport medicine clinic to get a bike fitting for our tandem. It was an awesome experience. They spent over 3 hours with us doing peddling analysis, going over a fitness regime, and adjusting our bike and shoes. George even got to have his knee examined by a sport physician. It was an incredible experience, worth every penny. Also by this time it was becoming clear that we had really scored with Alisha. Not only was she making was phenomenally good meals, she was also a complete treat to have around.

When I look back over everything that happened over the 6 week period, it's wonderous. I had an intention and I cleared out space quickly, though sometimes painfully, to have it. I learned that sometimes it's not enough to just say you want something, you have to intend to have it. Also, what came to me almost always exceeded my expectations. Today, my back is nearly back to normal, thanks to our new chiro. We're getting regular paychecks again for the first time in a year, and I'm just starting to think . . . what next ;-) .

The Beginning of Lived Epiphany

2005-05-13T11:09:00.000-07:00

Something has been lifted. One of many veils between me and the world. I can touch, see, feel people - strangers and friends. I can look in their eyes and see them. What a surprise to also find there; myself, my humanity. The fear is gone, that feeling that I might get something on me, that I might see something other than my perfect picture of myself. Yesterday was a complete joy.

From within my own space, I say hello energetically, and the rest follows. Our eyes meet and I smile. Looking to see who they are, what would serve them, I put a dollar into their hand, we hand Zoe the bag of treats for her hospitalized daughter. There's no guilt, no ought to. No sense of loss.

I think I must have had a sense of entitled distance. Stories from my childhood, about how kids made fun of me because I was racially different from them, and how there must be something wrong with me because no one wants to play with me, ejected from my friend's house because my mother wasn't home from work yet. Pieces of my humanity broken off to form shields and reinforced by familial patterns of emotional isolation. While I was busy working on protecting myself from more imagined slights and indignities, I had no idea that I could impact other people. Sure, I went through the motions, it is part of my persona to do so. However to reach out from the inside because it seems like the thing to do, to know myself through someone else, to comfort because it brings comfort into my world; that's what's new.

Will this be temporary? Probably, but I hope not.

Epiphany

2005-05-11T20:29:00.000-07:00

A couple days ago, I was talking to George in our kitchen. He was trying to pull me out of my funk. As a clairvoyant student, you go through these "growth periods" as your physicality catches up with the huge changes in your psyche, that result from when you clear out emotional, spiritual, and physical debri. I sat there watching him, with a slight detachment, churn through his usual litany of stuff to make me feel better - "we just have to do this . . . or do that . . . or try this . . . ". In the middle of it, he said something surprisingly true. "For reasons that escape me, people [that we've met recently] don't seem to like us."

Before I knew it, these were rolling out of my mouth, "People don't like us because we're arrogant snobs who don't care anything about them."

This truth has been knocking around inside of me every since.

JFK said, "For of those to whom much is given, much is required." We have been holding ourselves a little apart and a lot superior because we believe our training and experience with sensuality and relationships makes us better somehow. We built a grand fairy castle that almost no one can enter, and we have been unable to escape. Instead of generously sharing with respect and caring, and allowing ourselves to be enriched by the people we come across; we come across like we have the answers and are disdainful of others who think their answers are as good or better than ours. It is the height of petty small-minded insecurity.

" . . . much is required." I've been reading Queen Noor's autobiography. George dismissed her for having anything worthy to say given her life of privilege. As I read her story, though, all I'm getting is her incredible life of service and her singular desire to use the resources at her disposal to create a world of peace. Perhaps this has also added to my funk, the discrepancy between what motivates me versus what motivates her. I want to be a better person. I want to use my resources to make someone's life better. I want people to have a reason to feel even better about themselves while in our presence. I want everyone who comes in contact with us to know they are fine just the way they are.

When I was in graduate school and in the midst of deep personal transformation and poverty, I had a quote on the wall next to my PC that said, "You're doing fine. Keep going." It never failed to warm me because it declared that no matter what was going on in that moment, it was perfect; that no matter how badly I thought I was screwing up, I was doing the best I knew how to do in that moment; and for that matter, so was everyone else.

Photo Gallery

2005-04-09T08:21:00.000-07:00

2005-04-08T06:56:00.000-07:00

Where to start. . . . Perhaps with the sweetness . . . .

I live near the Oakland Hills in a house that George purchased for me when I decided I wanted to leave the community where we had met and were residing. That community is Lafayette Morehouse. More on this later. We live in a large 2-story house that we share with our kitty, Solstice as well as our 2 housemates - Zoe and Michael. We have housemates because it helps with the mortgage, of course. Our primary reason, though, is because it's more fun to have people around especially other women.

I met George when I was on a sabbatical from my former life as corporate human resource manager. We got together about a year later. We made a deal that he would fully support me while we researched being in a primary relationship with each other as we pursued the goals of responsible hedonism. Our definition of responsible hedonism is simply to have the most pleasurable life possible, to have fun, to do the next most fun thing, to not do anything we don't want to do. It's an easy thing to want, it can be a harder thing to have.

Today . . . my lifestyle is not upscale, but it is definitely luxurious. I mostly get up when I want. There is no where I really have to be. A beautiful Brazilian woman comes to clean our house every week. I go to Whole Foods, Trader Joes, and Market Hall in Rockridge in my Jeep Grand Cherokee to buy ingredients for whatever dinner or cocktail party we're having that week. An invitation to one of our parties is not to be missed. We are trained hedonist so we know how to have a good time. George shakes a mean classic cocktail, while I am the expert on ambiance and the wine enthusiast. Zoe and Michael have really added to our capacity to have memorable parties.

A typical day for me includes meditation, spending time online, reading, shopping, getting some form of physical healing or pampering or both, preparing food, arranging our calendar, planning content for a group or a post, and snuggling with George. On the weekends, we take our tandem bicycle out on half-day adventures, have parties, and generally lounge around together.

Defined

2005-04-07T07:28:00.000-07:00

Defined

Here's what they say:

kept wom·an

noun

woman supported by a lover: a woman who is financially supported, especially by a married man ( often considered offensive )

kept man
kept woman
noun

1. derog

A man or woman supported financially by someone in return for being available to them as a sexual partner.

a kept woman a woman who is paid to live with a man I'm tired of being a kept woman. I want to be free of him.

kept woman

     n : an adulterous woman; a woman who has an ongoing extramarital

         sexual relationship with a man [syn: mistress, fancy woman]

kept woman [n]

1)	an adulterous woman; a woman who has an ongoing extramarital sexual relationship with a man

Synonyms:fancy_woman mistress See Also: adult_female lover chachka concubine braun delilah

Here's what I say:

A kept woman today is a woman who is not married and has no children and is being fully supported by a man by choice. She may or may not live with him as is her pleasure. The arrangement is entered into freely and explicitly, and may be terminated in the same manner. The woman is under no obligation of any kind.

I specifically wanted to reclaim this phrase from the arcane archives of the American lexicon. For two years, I have been searching for a label, some short hand, to call the "us" that exits and is evolving. According to the government, we are domestic partners. While it is true that we occupy the same domicile, our deal existed before we lived together. Further, we have often referred to ourselves as companions. Certainly, George most often refers to me as his girlfriend. These terms don't quite get to the depth and interdependence I experience though.

I was in Starbucks when I first reached for this word. A well-intentioned woman asked me what I did for a living. It was a sunny afternoon in this mostly empty coffee shop, and I was feeling a juicy appreciation for my life. I was wearing a pretty casual dress as well as my gorgeous new ring made of the Mandarin Garnet that George had given me for Christmas, and I was on my way to a lovely spa. To say that I was feeling well cared for would have been entirely accurate. It was into this space that she asked this simple question. My usual response about being a former human resource manager for a fortune 50 high-tech firm didn't even come close to describing my existence at that moment. Without thinking I replied, "I'm a kept woman." How the conversation unfolded from there was illuminating.

Her: Oh you're a housewife.

Me: No, I'm not married. And actually, I pay somoene to clean my house.

Her: Oh, you're a stay-at-home mom.

Me: No, I don't have any children.

Her: So, you're unemployed.

Me: No, I just decided to stop working.

About here is where her circuits began to fry. I realized that she couldn't hear the phrase "kept woman" because she had no realty, no context in which to land the concept. Moreover, there I was this professional looking woman using a term, that had "whore" written all over it, to describe who I am. Fortunately, my chai was ready, so I could put her out of her misery.

This has become one of my missions in life; to speak this phrase, give it meaning, and have it show up as a viable option for any woman. Afterall, I'm not a beautiful tall skinny white woman. I'm an ordinary woman with some polish and education, who had the good sense to get some relationship training. If I can have it, anyone can.

To me, being a kept woman means that I am smart enough to enjoy my good life and pursue my goals in such a way that it inspires a man to want to be with me and give me more of that good life for us both to enjoy. What more could a man want than a happy, gratified woman who acknowledges that he is the cause? What more could any woman want than to have the freedom to pursue her highest dreams, inspire a man to acheive glory beyond his imagination, and serve the world by telling the truth of a life well-lived?

On Becoming a Kept Woman

2005-04-06T13:39:00.000-07:00

So you think you’d like to be a kept woman?

As Michael Naumer - my late teacher and relationship coach - once said, “It’s simple, just not so easy.”

You don’t have to be drop-dead gorgeous or even classically pretty. Nor do you have to be cunning, or well connected. What you DO have to do is:

be willing to have fun,
be deeply committed to your own pleasure and know your heart’s desire
be willing to tell the truth,
get your value from who you’re doing not from what you are doing
be willing to have even more fun
be creative,
be able to turn on a dime from whiney little girl to a mature woman with sense of humor and a willing to forgive and be forgiven,
let go of the career aspirations your parents gave you,
be interested in serving others and/or the world,
be willing to have even more fun,
take a leap of faith into uncharted territory,
be honest about money,
say exactly what you want and have it,
think big and outside of the box,
be willing to have even more fun
have your boyfriend be your friend and partner in the conspiracy for the highest pleasure in every aspect of your life,
acknowledge the good as often as you can remember,
cultivate girlfriends and partners in crime,
have a good cover story, or be a clear stand for the lifestyle,
willing to have the time of your life everyday.

Responsible Hedonism

2005-04-05T19:04:00.000-07:00

I wanted to say something about this since so much of what is out their about kept women on the internet is about women being little more than high-priced prostitutes.

Personally, I am living out of a paradigm known as responsible hedonism. It is generally defined as the measured or balanced pursuit of pleasure for its own sake. Being mindful of long-term consequences is a key factor.

Other thoughts on responsible hedonism include:

. . . the interconnectivity and wholeness of the earth and all humanity and calls into light our relationship to the earth and the need for responsible hedonism as a way to honor the earth, each other, and ourselves. . . . It also instructs us to give and receive pleasure in all forms, and that love and sensuality are not always sexual. We should live each day experiencing the childish delight and discovery of the world around us and also to fulfill our responsibility as the caretakers of the earth

. . . the pursuit of "responsible hedonism," seeking a balance between short- and long-term personally meaningful goals that improve the young offender's world or, at least, cause it no undue harm.

Being a kept woman is having the privilege to pursue a path of pleasure in a wide variety of areas. First with yourself and then in an ever increasing arc that eventually includes serving the world with your happiness.

Having a Vision

2005-04-04T17:11:00.000-07:00

It's funny, I can remember precisely the moment when I decided to have the life I wanted. It was during a goals setting exercise. Every since that moment, more and more of my life has become a deliberate creation. The key thing I learned in that moment is that you have to have a clear goal in order to be able to recognize an opportunity when it presents itself. Otherwise, you're looking at the replay, going “damn, wish I'd seen that.". George and I were hiking on the ridge behind the property at Lafayette Morehouse shortly after I arrived. He was talking about how he had surplus cycles [code for he has a lot of available time and energy that a woman could put to use to fulfill her various desires]. I heard that and recognized that my ship had just come in. Of course, it took several months for me to get out of my way enough to have my goal, but at least I was clear on the outcome.

There were hundreds of decisions made before that hike that got me there, and there have been hundreds since that brought me here. Last night, when I looked at the commitment statements I had made 6 years ago, I was blown away by how much of my life today was a direct result of those commitments I had made at a variety of levels – individual, team, organization, society, etc. Back then it was a lot of effort and intention. Today, it's mostly just desire. I decide I want something and I know that I can have it because I've done it before, over and over. Being with George has helped me further refine my capabilities for two reasons. First, if I say I want it, he goes to work on getting it, so I damn well better be ready to have it. So my capacity to have stuff, including experiences, has increased dramatically. Which leads me to the second, which is that he is very good at detecting true desire versus wanting something because I think I should. These 2 factors have allowed me to have more of what I want faster.

Redefining My Value

2005-04-03T17:19:00.000-07:00

Clarity is a great thing. The entire first year after we moved out of the Morehouse, I was stalled in a fog bank. It lifted slowly at first. I actually took a couple of jobs. Strange but true. I still had my value as a woman linked to having a career. George was so valiant. He kept telling me that I could work or not work, but I should only do what I wanted to do. This despite the fact that we were living hand-to-mouth while he tried to find a new business to support us. He had another good line early on when I was really mopey and feeling worthless and ranting that I should be doing something, something of service to the world. He replied, "You could be of service to me. You could be happy, that would be a service." Bookmark that.

So I actually worked in my profession - human resources - for a few months. My mother was so happy. Our lives became more ordinary by the day. I quit after 5 months. Then I started working as a sales representative for a recycled printer cartridge company because I discovered that I had some innate capacity for the first part of the sales cycle - getting the meeting. It also promised a telecommute situation after a few months. I did that for 6 months. All the while, I was searching for the thing I was suppose to be doing, and our lives were becoming still more ordinary by the day. A week after I decided to quit, I had my 42 birthday. All day long I was singing, "It's my perfect birthday . . ." And you know what? It was. The whole day was a dream. I had a crystal clear experience all day of creating out of nothing but desire to have the present moment be the best ever. Out of that came a yummy breakfast, beautiful jewelry and scarves, a bike ride to a hilltop that yielded phenomenal views of the Bay area; and later, cocktails and dancing at the Top of the Mark while watching the sunset over the Bay Bridge. That was the beginning of the shift. A couple weeks later, I was in a Starbucks on my way to a spa, when that woman asked me that fateful question.

When I realized she couldn't hear the phrase "kept woman". I began playing with the language and observing the reactions. It soon dawned on me that I had a life that most women considered a fantasy. They would always trot out an assumption that would have me fit their pictures and validate their existence. Invariably, though, I would crack their reality by responding with definitive delight the antithesis to the pictures they tried to lay on me. It occurred to me that just by showing up and telling the truth about my life that I was giving women another possibility. Unfortunately, the kept woman is rare enough that it represents a breakthrough in lifestyle for most women.

These experiences really helped me get clear that my life as a gratified woman and sensual researcher with George had value. Taking the Women's Intuition course at BPI pretty much cemented it. I discarded so much stuff that was not mine about how my life should be. Now, I can make distinctions about what's my energy in terms of thoughts and feelings, and what is that of other people covertly trying to control me. Clearly, an important skill to have when living a revolutionary life.

A Tale of Two Men

2005-04-02T21:14:00.000-08:00

I owe a great deal to two men who influenced the course of my life most profoundly.

The first in chronological order is Michael Naumer, co-founder of the Relationship Research Institute (RRI) - whom I met in the spring of 1999. After I decided that I wanted to meet a certain caliber of men, I hired a professional matchmaker who suggested that I take a weekend course entitled Beyond the Game led by Michael. The first step in the process of the course was a video interview that Michael himself conducted with every participant. His astute observations of the incongruity of my public persona with my stated goals was the beginning of a relentless exploration of self-awareness. I also recognized that I did in fact have impact on people - particularly men, and I could choose to do it consciously or unconsciously. As I became part of an inner-circle of students who were dedicated to embodying his work, I came to understand that I complete control over the story of my life, especially that I was not my emotions, and that greatest opportunity in relationships was to get seniority over unconscious patterns, thereby gaining an ever greater personal freedom and expansiveness. The most important gift that he gave me though didn't have anything to do with relationships directly. Because of him I mastered the sahdana of service; impeccable action out of a space of "nothing" (no personal gain)
for the purpose of transformation. I was more myself, and not my personality with him than with I was with almost everyone else in my life at the time. Before Michael, I was a victim of circumstances. After Michael, I was a perpetrator of my life.

Michael died on May 4, 2001.

The same day I had my first private hour with Jackie Alec and Marilyn of Lafayette Morehouse. I decided then and there that I would pursue the path of responsible hedonism that would inevitably take me to the feet of Morehouse co-founder, Victor Baranco. But first, I had to meet the man who fulfill a life-long dream of partnership. That night I danced with George Sawyer for the first time at a singles party. The rest is history.

Meeting Vic made everything with George possible. In my first audience with Vic, he accurately described my true overriding goal, " . . . you want to be enlightened and get off better than you ever have before in your life.". Later he told me to stand at the exit door of his "man factory" and I would have a man who would treat me in a such a way that I would never again doubt my attractiveness [means more than superficial physical attributes, has to do with a sense of inherent value]. That's pretty much what I did, though not overtly.

Vic and his wife Suzy created an experimental residential community in the late sixties that continues to exist today in Lafayette, CA. The primary goal of this community is experiment with ways of living pleasurably in a group and reporting their findings in the courses that they teach. They are the only group I know that is actively and thoughtfully pursuing the philosophy of responsible hedonism as valid path. They are best known for the research in the area of sensuality/sexuality and man-woman relationships. Early on, I took the Expansion of Sexual Potential intensive. I had an extraordinary guide who understood my motivations and it became a shamanic adventure that literally began on the fateful day of September 11, 2001 and ended 2 weeks later with a thunder and lightening storm. My life changed profoundly over the course of those 2 weeks. Among the many outcomes, I had gained an understanding that I could have whatever I wanted out of my own desire to have it. If I wanted to feel more pleasure, I could feel more pleasure. If I wanted a better life, I could have a better life. I also got that no matter what is going on - personal loss or national disaster - I had a choice about who I was going to be in the matter, and that there was always value in choosing pleasure over pain.

George and I had had a very bumpy ride in our relationship. There were at least 2 other women that I felt I was competing with and my act was shabby at best. With the help of our friends aka "trainers and handlers", we were just starting to build a relationship based on fun and not my desperate agenda to be have a guy of my own, when we joined 6 of our friends in HI for a final audience with Vic before he died. Our first of 3 sessions with him was rough, to say the least. Members of our group were going down in flames with every question they asked as Vic ruthlessly exposed their manipulative agendas, inadequacies, and incongruities. Finally, there was a lull. I was staring down at my feet grateful to be sitting in the back out of the line of fire, when out of the blue I heard George say, " Hey Vic, what about this broad sitting next to me . . . ." George was asking if Vic thought it was a good idea for George to take our relationship to the next level - commitment. The back story: George had been around in the community for years, and had brought 1 previous girlfriend and 1 wife in front of Vic. The second time, Vic asked him why George didn't ask his opinion before he took up with these "lame ass" women. So there I was with George holding me up to Vic for his opinion. My heart stopped. I was sure I was going to go down in flames like many of friends had that morning. Instead a miracle. He replied, "I don't know, man. [She's the] fastest player in the house . . . ". This was Vic's way of saying that I was good catch. It's just about his highest form of complement. The next thing you here on the tape is George saying, "Wow!". I knew then that I finally had him. All the painful stumbling and then the methodical recovery as I pursued my sadhana, just do the next most fun thing, and the rest will take care of itself; had all paid off in the few precious moments. Vic gave me that. I probably would have gotten their on my own in a few more months; but it's like they say, "Everything is faster around Vic". There it was, the man I had been pursuing for months, my best hope for my dream-come-true, handed to me on a silver platter in a matter of minutes. Once again, accurately identifying my true desire, he delivered. Vic did that. I know of no one else who can gratify women the way Vic did. Because of him I have had the experience and the knowledge that I can be and am completely gratified. Vic did that.

Michael, Vic, having known you and your heartfelt desire to see me, and have me see best of me has forever changed me. I love you. I miss you. You will live in heart, and I will endeavor to live a life worthy of all you have given me.

Resources

2005-04-01T15:37:00.000-08:00

Periodically, I will post information on books, courses, websites that I know to be useful on this path.

Courses and Consultants

More House aka the Institute for Human Abilities
Lafayette, CA
Judy St. John
925-930-9244
no website
unparalleled high quality information on relationships, sexuality, and communal living. This is the source of much the recent literature today on extended orgasm and male-female relationships.

Relationships Research Institute
SF East Bay Area, CA
Howard Zalkin
510-336-3527
howardz@sbcglobal.net
no website
Howard and his partner, JP, have picked up the RRI work since the death of Michael Naumer in 2001. This is good basic material on how to see who you're being and navigate relationships more effectively.

Universal Tao
http://www.universal-tao.com/
Good information on esoteric Taoist sexual practices.

Rivka Grubb
Wardrobe Consultant
Lafayette, CA
925-457-4975
rivkagrubb@juno.com
She is real professional and a lot of fun. The shopping trip I did with her was one of the most luxurious experiences I've ever had. She put the polish on my act.

Literature

Mama Gena's School of Womanly Arts: Using the Power of Pleasure to Have Your Way with the World by Regina Thomashauer.

When you Google "kept woman" you will eventually land in Mama Gena's lap. On her website, you will find a listing of her courses and her book. I have never taken her courses, though I do know she has some training from Morehouse and is quite well known in the NY community. Her book noted above was a delightful read, fun fluff, cotton candy-like as it will leave you wanting something more, like perhaps her workshops. Nonetheless, what's there is sound with some of the exercises will surely take your life up a few notches. What I like about this book versus Sugar Daddy 101 by Leidra Lawson, which I recently perused, is that there is absolutely NO manipulation involved. Her book is really about enjoying your life so much that you will be irresistible to men which has certainly been one of the tennents of my good life. Mama Gena's is a good introduction for those who want to pursue the life of a kept woman or responsible hedonism, as well as those who just want to have a better time being a woman.