The J-Spot

On the most fertile day of the millennia… someone’s getting F*d. IMage via PXfuel.com I practiced with a samurai sword for five years straight and never cut myself once. During the course of six months, I have cut myself with my sickle twice. It hangs from my belt when I go into the woods to worship. Suspended by a braided faux suede cord. If you leave enough length, it will get enough arc in its swing to come back and pierce your thigh, so I shorten it, always too late. I guess this is a prime example of why a father is always worried about safety first. When my seventeen-year-old daughter was obviously planning to sneak away for a teenage Halloween party, I wrestled with forbidding her to go or just handing her a handful of condoms. Between her mother and I, we probably managed little more than persuading her to move out on the day of her eighteenth birthday! Meanwhile, I was planning my own Halloween expedition, to sow seeds of a different kind, of thought, word, and deed. This ...

A druid’s window on the past… I had been really excited about finally seeing real magic! Venturing into a cave and reciting an old Welsh spell of making, made me realize that there was more to life than meets the eye. After that one genuine experience, I was hungry for more truth. So I thought, ‘Why not blow the doors right off the Otherworld and go for the Dragon calling?’ Yet, my mentor put the brakes on my noble ambitions before I could head out for the endeavor. He warned against unwelcome results if I went too far too fast. A younger me may have ignored his caution, but luckily, I learned the extremely important skill of listening about ten years prior. “Okay, okay,” my old friend Woody would say, “just slow down!” At that point I would be interrupting his dialogue with my own, assuming I knew where his advice was headed. “You need to learn to listen!” he said, soundly. I paused and remembered something I read about people subconsciously waiting for an opportunity to speak ra...