Singin' in the Kitchen

For as long as I remember, ever since I had my spiritual and sensuous awakening, music has been so important. Such a zesty, vital part of my life.

More often than not, when I'm cookin' dinner, I'm singing. My office adjoins the kitchen, so I'll make playlists of great music and sashay and shimmy and sing in front of the stove. For me, this is about sending out my love and energy and enjoying being joy. for myself. and for my family.

From time to time, I've posted here songs I particularly enjoyed. Now, thanks to a friend on Twitter, I've found an easier way to share the songs I'm dancing dinner to. I've joined blip.fm and become a DJ. (grin)

Y'all I am having so much fun with this! I wanted to share with you for two reasons:
A) Anything joy in my life I want to share (with the exception of certain sacred naked details that Delighted Husband nixes)
B) I've been honest with you guys from the get-go about my tremendous joys, erotic and otherwise, and the high cost of growing it took to get there. But lately, it seems when I have a longer story to tell, it becomes a blog post and when I have a shorter story to tell, it becomes a tweet or a facebook post. And lately, I've had a lot of growing to do, and growing stories tend to be longer.

So I wanted to balance that out and give you a glimpse of some of the sweet moments in my life.

Here's a sampling of my playlist over the last few days. I've found my inner DJ and she LIKES it!
Visit blip.fm/SensuousWife to listen!

SensuousWife Save this one till after the kids go to bed (bites knuckle)

All Would Envy – Chris Botti & Shawn Colvin | pause

posted on Nov 13 at 3:43 pm

SensuousWife Is it too much to ask? I wanna full house and a rock-n-roll band and passionate kisses from you!

Passionate Kisses – Mary Chapin Carpenter | play

posted on Nov 13 at 5:32 pm

SensuousWife Shut up and kiss me. Nuff said.

Shut up and Kiss Me – Mary Chapin Carpenter | play

posted on Nov 13 at 3:30 pm

SensuousWife Perfect kitchen dance music. Flour on the apron and everything!

La Vie En Rose – Grace Jones | play

posted on Nov 13 at 3:26 pm

SensuousWife The guitar is organic pure & Neil's vocal is sexy as allgetout. (shiver) if you really listen to the words, you'll blush.

Forever In Blue Jeans – Neil Diamond | play

posted on Nov 13 at 3:15 pm

SensuousWife Singing this song makes me feel like my heart has taken wing. Joy despite pain feels so good!

Change The World – Eric Clapton | play

posted on Nov 13 at 5:02 pm

Sensuous Cook

I've started writing and photographing recipes while I cook and calling it The Sensuous Cook, which I'm compiling as a book and will share here and on a new blog Sensuous Cooks. Fun eh? Cause of course "alive to pleasure received through the senses" includes taste. Does it ever! And if you dance and sing while you cook it, so much the better.

I can hardly cook without music. My office is close to the kitchen and I'll cue up a playlist of music while I'm makin' dinner. I'll dance around the island and shimmy in front of the stove.
One of my favorite singers to cook to is Neil Diamond:
"warm touchin' warm reachin' out touchin' me touchin' you sweet caroline bah bah bahhh good times never seemed so good SO GOOD SO GOOD duh duh duh i'd be inclined bah bah bahhh..." and next thing you know we have a crab alfredo made from scratch. God, I love being a woman.

Failure is Impossible

What would you have the courage to attempt if you knew failure was impossible?

Think about that for a minute.

Let that sink in.

Girls, I'll give you an easy start.
Dance for your husband.
And I'm not talkin' Tinkerbell dance recital dance either.

Seriously.

You may find this one of the most liberating and exhilerating experiences of your married life.

You can use your own creativity to come up with your own signature performance. Here's an idea for starters.

Take one of your older pair of jeans that you don't mind taking out of public circulation. If you think they are too tight, all the better. You want jeans that really hug your fanny but are not so tight as to be uncomfortable. You can even go to a resale shop and get the perfect pair for under ten bucks if the right pair of jeans is not currently in your closet.

Put them on.
In private. In front of a mirror.
You're going to cut them into shorts. Not shorts you can wear to your kids soccer game, either. Seriously short shorts. Obscenely short. Too short to wear in public.
Take a pen and mark where you want to cut them into shorts. Just a little mark. Take the jeans off. Go down about an inch or two from where you drew the cutting mark. This will allow room for fringe. Cut the jean legs off to make cutoff shorts. You're going for a look that's a little bit Daisy Duke a little bit Marianne and a little bit Ginger. You can use scissors to cut the jeans. You can use a knife if you're VERY careful and you want to make little ragged fringey I've been stuck on a desert island kind of edge to the denim.

Okay, you've got the shorts.

Next, the top.
There are several options.
But first, the most important bit of clothing.
Your bra. You need a good bra with lots of support and lift and cleavage. Doesn't matter if the bra itself is kind of plain without much lace and adornment. Just lift up the girls!

Okay, the top. This is where it gets fun. You could buy a camisole one size too small on purpose. You could buy a buttonup denim vest at the same resale shop you bought the old faded jeans you just cut up. You could wear that peasant blouse you wore 2 summers ago but haven't thrown out. Anything small and dainty that shows off your cleavage. And if you're concious of your tummy from baby stretch marks or something, don't crop the top. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.

If you feel like it, you can wear shoes or boots or whatever. Shoes are TOTALLY not necessary but can be a fun option.

Now. You're almost ready to dance.

Girls, here is the huge couragemaking confidenceboosting truth.
It is impossible for you to fail.
Success is guaranteed and failure is not a remote possibility.
You playfully own your sexuality and grow your comfort zone.
Your man gets the incredibly hot experience of having his wife tantalize him in a way that he has surely fantasized about. And the added bonus, is the whole damn thing is a guilt-free pleasure! For both of you!

Now, some of you may not really consider yourselves dancers.
That is SO okay.
I've got a workaround for that.

Jessica Simpson did a rendition of that old song These Boots are Made for Walkin' and believe me ladies, you leaving him will be the last thing on either of your minds. The beauty of this song for first time tantalizers is it has a nice slow easy beat and if you don't know many dance moves, all you have to do to "get it" is just listen to the music, feel the beat, look him in the eye and strut and saunter around the floor. You don't even need boots.

Now don't go all perfectionistic on yourself and practice it to death trying to make it perfect. This is not Star Search. This is Have Hot Fun At Home. But you may want to strut through the song once, by yourself, just to get into your groove. The first time I danced and strutted my stuff to this song felt effinfabulous!

Remember girls, failure is impossible.

How do I know?

I just know.

Love,
SW

Please my darlings do not let your heart become distracted by thoughts of comparing your body to Jessica or anybody else. Own your own hotness. Share it with your husband. Go for it!

Latin dance at lunchtime

I was knee-deep in documents and nearly bout asleep. After briefly considering skulking off to a vacant office, setting an alarm on my cell phone and crawling under the desk for a nap, I asked God to help me. I felt like I'd been dosed with cold medicine, just an overwhelming fatigue and I didn't think sleeping on the job would go over well. I prayed silently for a minute or two, asking for the Zoe energy of God to fill me. Two thoughts flashed on the screen in my mind. One a word and one an image. The phrase "put on the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness" and the image of the dance floor at the gym. I'd never danced on that dance floor, but I'd walked by it on the way to the circuit training room. There was a beautiful song playing on my mp3 player and I remembered my interpretive dance class and how much fun it would be to move to this song. Come. Dance. Now.

So I stood up from my desk, grabbed my purse and my water bottle and headed for the door.

As I walked to the gym, still listening to the mp3 player already strapped to my arm, I remembered that every time I had seen the dance floor it was empty. I visualized myself having the floor to myself, twirling and dancing.

At the gym, as I walked down the hall, I heard loud Latin funk music and when I reached the entrance of the dance floor, I saw that a Latin cardio funk dance class had just started. I hung back in the entrance for just a few seconds, then joined in at the back of the room. I had no trouble keeping up with the moves! The instructor was lithe and energetic, and she really felt the soul and groove of the music and so did I. The music was smokin' and eager to join in, I quickly dropped my purse and water bottle on the floor, took off my jacket and shook my booty along with everyone else in the room. The pants and cami I'd worn to work this morning were fine for dancing. Almost as though this had been planned. There was a woman instructor and a man instructor and they were both Latino and athletic without being perfect looking. Just two humans who love to dance and who love to make us love it too. This wasn't just an exercise class. They were sharing their culture and their joy. We had a blast. People of every race, age and fitness level in the class all movin' and groovin'. The joy was palpable. None of us were inhibited. We swayed our arms and swayed our hips and snapped our fingers. Y'all, we were smokin'! When each song ended, the class broke into cheers and spontaneous applause.

I. felt. marvelous. And Tom Allen—you knew there would be—there were mirrors in the room. And I enjoyed them. I was shy for about three and a half seconds ;) and then as my body responded to the music I lost myself in the joy of movement. The next time my eye caught my reflection, I thought, "who is that adorable earth mama movin' her hips like some native woman on Survivor?" It's me!
(laughing for joy)

There was about five minutes after class when the dance floor was empty, and I thought "ask forgiveness not permission" and I claimed that space and did some free dance to that lovely Pleasure of the King song I'd been lovin' on my mp3 player back at my desk. Dance can give wings to the feelings in your heart. It felt so good to let my body speak without words.

When it was over, I went to the edge of the floor for more stretching, then I put on my jacket, picked up my purse and water bottle and walked back to the office. My lungs were tingling and I felt pulsing with energy and life and joy.

There and back in thirty minutes.
You'd think somebody loves me or somethin'.
(grin) -SW

Even in soulless Corporate America

Y'all, I have figured out I can do this job and still remain a soft, loving, reasonably sane woman. Well, not figured out. I experienced it. Oh goodness, lemme just tell you the story.

Ever since I started this corporate gig, I have been increasingly crabby and grouchy and dare I say bitchy. Yes, bitchy. I was running on empty and you know what that is right? A recipe for disaster. I felt under so much pressure, and my emotional bank account was so overdrawn.

In my old job which didn't pay much and was often frustrating as hell, I worked from home. So I was free to put things into my day that fed my soul. nourished my heart. Stuff like long walks out in nature powerwalking my way down a jogging path with nothing but green and the music in my ears. Stuff like having the house all to myself during the day and going into the gameroom and cranking up the stereo, pushing back the furniture, and dancing and singing my little heart out. And you know how you dance when nobody's lookin'? I danced like that. I would start out dancing like I danced in dance class and then passion would take over and I would just whirl all over that room! I'd feel breathless and alive and fabulous.

I had a lot of freedom in my schedule for quality time with my girlfriends, several of which I'd have lunch with on a regular basis. I had a nourishing encouraging support group that I was a part of. The group was led by a woman therapist and we slowly worked and grew our way through several books and workbooks like Boundaries and Healing for Damaged Emotions. And y'all know, I want to live right and be healthy and I need all the help I can get. And there was SO much love in that room as we all fought and grew together. Cause growing, real changes in the heart is a struggle, and you needs lots of people who love you who celebrate your little victories and hold you hand when you need to cry.
So, yeah, I didn't make much dough, but I had a really good world.

And then I got this corporate gig downtown.

And all the things in my life that nourished me went away.
And the pressure on me and the demands of me increased.
And the time! The sheer force of hours.
Cause I'm back in cubicle land. and for nine hours a day they want me to sit still and be quiet. And I'm me. Miss Dance-Joy-Vivaciousness. Trying to be quiet. And it's so hard for me to be still it nearly bout makes me ache. Oh, and did I mention, my dance class closed for the Summer? So really, all these lovely nourishing things in my life went away.

But the money is so good. I mean, I've made more, but I've certainly made less and this job allows me to pitch in on some financial goals that are really important to Delighted Husband and me. Paying off debt for one thing. And start up capital for my new venture for another. So I was in this gig for the duration.
And dying on the vine.

And ya'll know how unreligious I am. and while I enjoy the social, community aspect of church (and hey they also have a great band) my primary way to connect with my spirituality has been my singing, my dancing, my nature walks and bike rides.

So I was socially spiritually and emotionally overdrawn. I was a mess.

Okay I'm getting to the good part, I swear. I just wanted you to know how bad it was.

So this week, I remembered I had music on my pocket pc. It had been so long since I listened to music on my pocket pc, I mostly use my mp3 player, I had forgotten. But I'd heard everything on my mp3 player over and over, it was my workout list for the gym and I didn't think I'd find my get sweaty fired up music comforting.

So I did "play all" just to see what was there on my pocket pc.

And oh, you guys, it was Chris Rice. An instrumental from The Living Room Sessions. Savior Like a Shepherd Lead Us. Now as I told my girlfriend Pro Deo Sum on the phone today, as much as I complain about growing up in a Christian home, I am really glad I grew up hearing and singing the old hymns, because back in the day the people who wrote hymns were people who lived lives of struggle. We're talkin' big time suffering here, people and those lyricists knew what it was like to feel your soul had sprung a leak and the next gas station was 15 miles away. They knew. So these hymns speak comfort to me like nothing else. So I listen to dear Chris Rice play this hymn, and he has such a light touch. I mean, when Chris Rice does a hymn, if his music were cooking it would be a light garlic sauce that enhances the flavor of everything else and doesn't cover it up. Not your ponderous old Granny music. Light and airy and graceful. Are you followin' me here? I'm doing my best to describe the song because I don't think I can find it on you tube. Anyway, so there's the song. And the gyst of the lyric is "Jesus please be our good shepherd and take good care of us cause we're weak and we're hungry and we're sheep so we're limited in our ability to do anything about it."

When I heard this song, I heard all this comfort that I wasn't feeling. I remembered all the amazing spiritual moments I'd had on the jogging path. And I sat there in my cubicle. And it was like pressing your nose against the glass and seeing this happy dinner party going on inside without you. I heard love. I heard intimacy. I heard connection. I heard joy. I heard togetherness. and I wadn't gettin' any of it. And it just tore me up. So I closed my eyes, and I thought, "Jesus I miss you so much I can hardly stand it. In fact, I can't." And instantly, He was there. When I opened my eyes, I saw my computer screen and heard nice music in my earphones. When I closed my eyes, I saw this movie in my mind of Jesus standing before me, looking—as he always does in my mind's eye—like my brother Brian, with Celtic green eyes beaming with love and looking at me with such delight. I blinked back and forth a couple of times, stunned in a happy way. I opened my eyes, I'm smack dab in the middle of soulless Corporate America. I close my eyes, and Jesus is holding my hands and looking into my eyes with such love and we are dancing like children up and down the aisles of cubicle land. -SW

PS
Oh and tomorrow morning, I'm loading up my bike in the shagmobile and I'm hitting the bike trails. Oh yeah!

Let the Music Move You

One of the biggest dimensions to living a life of pleasure as a sensuous wife is how I feel and act when nobody's looking except my Creator. Music is such a huge part of that. This morning while I was standing in front of the stove whipping up a batch of omega 3 swedish pancakes (gotta get in that guerrilla nutrition whenever I can!) the song I was listening to went from Exquisite Cathedral to Groove Dog in just a few bars. I let myself enjoy it. I swayed and sashayed around the kitchen, letting my wrists do a writhey-twirly thing like a Bollywood movie. I had so much fun I burned one batch of pancakes. I'd do it again.

Better 6 partially burned pancakes with a groovin' happy wife then 8 perfect pancakes with an annoyed and itchin' wife.

The song, as you groovin' wives will doubtless want to know, is The Call on Michael W Smith's Freedom album. -SW