Living in Resonance


By the time I was 30, I had what most people thought was a dream job.   When I told people what I did for a living, they would reply, “That’s so exciting!  I wish I could do that.”  I was a movie producer, and was constantly traveling around the world.  I made a good income.   I was pretty, and most of the time, I felt like it. 

Even when I wasn’t on the road, I was working 60 hours a week.  My life was work, sleep, work, sleep – with hard partying ever weekend.  I was drained.  Most mornings, I could barely get up.   I had no energy. Things were always worst when summer turned to fall and the weather turned cooler.  Most Septembers, I could hardly do any work.  People could tell I was exhausted, especially when they were on the receiving end of my ever-worsening irritation.  They figured that it was because I was so driven to succeed. What they didn’t know was that I didn’t even like this “dream job.”  Too often what I was doing was at odds with my most basic values.  It’s no secret that awful things happen in the movie industry.  I’d known it going in, but had no idea how bad it could get.

The problem of no energy got steadily worse.  Finally, I went to the doctor to get checked out.  After an MRI and a thorough exam, the doctor told me in a gentle voice to take a seat.   Those words still echo in my head.   I knew instantly something was very wrong.  Up until that point, I’d figured my exhaustion was no big deal.  It would clear up if I changed my diet, or drank less, or took a certain pill.  And then the doctor told me I had a serious autoimmune disease, and it had the potential to get much worse.  I sat stunned.   And I knew everything that I had known up until that point would have to change.

I crashed hard.  I cried.  I also realized I had to try and stop this thing from getting worse, and maybe one place to start would be a better work life balance.  Maybe I could find a way to be more productive at work, enjoy the work a bit more, and at the same time stay healthy.  I was willing to try anything – yoga, meditation, and so forth.  I was open like I’d never been open before.

About two weeks after I was diagnosed, I met up with a friend and told her what I was looking for.   She told me she’d just done a meditation workshop the previous weekend.  When I asked what sort of practice it involved, she told it was “Orgasmic Meditation.”  I laughed.  I thought she was joking.  I couldn’t believe such a thing existed.   Something about her enthusiasm and my need, though, led me to try it anyway, despite my suspicion.  When I went to my first gathering with OM practitioners, I instantly noticed something special about the people.  I saw their faces, and it was like suddenly remembering something that I'd lost years ago. They had an unmistakable spark, and a lightness in their eyes and on their cheeks. There was just a certain glow around them. I knew that I had that at some point. And, just as surely, I knew that I had lost it a long time ago.  I wanted it back.

I took a workshop to learn more about the practice. When I had my first OM, there were a couple of moments where I felt really turned on. And then afterwards, the sexual tension was completely gone. I sat up from the OM feeling awake and recharged. I went straight from that first OM to a date. I know I was beaming; the man I was with remarked on how radiant I seemed. I just felt like a very bright light was shining out from within me.

I’d done workshops before, and they had left me depleted.   With my autoimmune disease, most things exhausted me.  I walked out of this first full day of workshop, and I couldn’t believe how much energy I had.  This was utterly new to me.  I’d worked a whole week, took this workshop, and then I was heading out for the evening as if I were walking on air.   It had only been my first OM, but I knew something incredible was here.

I kept working full time, and I was still flying around the world for shoots. Even with my busy travel schedule, I made time to practice OM.  One morning I woke up and realized it was September. Fall was coming, but I wasn’t having my usual seasonal collapse.  Something was different.  A cycle was broken.

I don’t want to give the wrong impression.  OM is not a miracle cure.  I’m 37 now, and I still have that autoimmune disease.  I may have it for the rest of my life.  The thing is, I have the energy to cope with it.  I’ve learned how to balance too – I work much less these days, and my work doesn’t feel as much like hard labor as it did.  I’ve chosen a new career, and I know now that I don’t have to burn myself out at this job. OM taught me how to listen to what is happening right now, and how to respond to what’s needed in this moment only.

Having a disease has made living in the now all the more important.  One of the most important tools I get from OM is resonance.  I’ve learned to listen to my body and hear what it wants at each moment – staying in resonance with it.  My practice has taught me how to find out what I want and how to ask for that specific thing.  Focusing on my clitoris for 15 minutes at a time has made me much more sensitive in so many other ways.  I feel so many things I didn’t feel before, and I can pick up on nuances that would have eluded me in the past. When something isn’t resonating with me, I know how to say no. Sometimes I’ll meet a potential client, and even though the money is good, I’ll just know that this isn’t supposed to work.  When that happens I’m able to say no right away, trusting that the money will come in other ways.

The bottom line is this. I’m at a place where I can absolutely trust my body and the truth it tells me.  I don’t know that I would have gotten here without OM.