Sex vs SEX (An Essay)

in the middle of the night

he and i had a lovely conversation about sex

and not surprisingly

based on how we met and how things are unfolding

we share a similar view on play

sex (penetration) for the sake of sex

hits no true spot

but the experience of SEX

that has no beginning, no middle, no end

that may or may not include penetration

that may or may not include touch or a release

that is not marked separate from a ‘non-sex’ event

(because it’s alllll SEX, baby)

that is where the magic is

that is what arouses more than a particular position or body type

than a pre-determined set of preferences

than a vibe of ‘this worked on her last time so i’ll just do that again’

because SEX is a dance in the NOW

(Peep the Mandy Bite)

so you can’t bring a (past) thing with you

nor can you aim for something else

you must make each move from exactly where you are

without leaving where it’s fresh and alive and new

without ever leaving YOU

because true SEX is beyond the physical

the body is just the vessel through which you play

endlessly

truthfully

fluidly

to more

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Ride and Die (An Essay)

“What a fucking RIDE. Playing with you is unlike anything out there. Potent. Immediate. Not for the faint of heart.”

Last night’s treat in my inbox.

My spot always gets hit when I’m playing with a fellow rider.

Because fellow riders are the only ones who viscerally get what I’m throwin’ down.

I am of no use to those who want safety, time, solutions, support.

Those who are still looking to me or to others for more content to consume.

For something or someone else to attach to, to believe in, to become a superfan of.

My types are the ones who simply want to play with what’s alive right now, regardless of what does or doesn’t happen.

When you’re ready for THAT thrill,

let’s ride.

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The Illusion Of A Purpose (An Essay)

In a call the other day, the fellow was talking about not having a purpose aka a made-up concept to attach himself to.

You know, to give himself / his life some direction, some meaning, some much needed motivation.

Something he can create an identity around.

Something to make him feel more ‘like a man’.

Because being exactly who he is and following his natural movements on the daily isn’t enough.

There needs to be an add on.

Something quantifiable.

Something more / other than this.

I told him I don’t have a purpose.

He said it’s different for men.

I found that amusing.

Mostly because he just put us both in a separate category based solely on physicality (ignoring the energy aka the truth which would completely disprove his point if we really were talking about the masculine and feminine) to explain why I’m fine not having a purpose and he’s not.

It’s not because I’m a woman.

It’s because I’m not attached to bullshit.

Regardless of gender, regardless of conditioning based on gender, an illusion is still an illusion.

Purpose (or lack of), like self-worth (or lack of), like value (or lack of), like countless other things that aren’t actually real, is just a human-made concept to attach to and create a story around.

Something to hold on to, to point to as the reason you feel the way you do, or do the things you do you think you should do.

Something to avoid being the living truth.

Which comes with no labels.

No terms.

No concepts.

No thing.

Your ‘purpose’ is to BE yourself,

unobstructed,

if there had to be a thing.

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You're Asking The Wrong Question (An Essay)

It's not: "How do I get the clients / make the money / overcome the addiction / heal the pain / resolve this health and / or relationship 'issue'?"

It's: "When will I stop saying YES to a NO? When will I stop supressing what's true? When will I make being the living truth my full-time job regardless of who or what is in front of me?"

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The Bullshit of High-End Coaching (An Essay)

Last year a hottie made a comment to me about the low caliber of client that comes with charging low prices.

And she was really sold on this bullshit narrative because she was being charged, and was charging, a wild amount for ‘high-end’ coaching at the time.

Which in and of itself isn’t an issue.

I’m pointing to the idea that a certain price point yields a certain quality of person.

It doesn’t.

Energy leads.

Not money.

I worked with Sanna for a year and didn’t pay a dollar for it.

As if I was a low calibre client.

As if she wasn’t the best ‘mentor’ on the fucking planet despite not charging me a penny.

Nothing was reduced just because a dollar amount wasn’t attached and a dollar wasn’t exchanged.

But I digress.

A couple of weeks ago, the said hottie took me up on my $50 for 30 minute deal (a rare deal since I currently charge $750 USD for a 30 minute call).

I was delighted.

Obviously her narrative had changed, and we had a beautiful call unrelated to money.

Then last week, she asked to book a second call to talk specifically about money.

Because despite investing in and offering ‘high-end’ coaching, it hadn’t really panned out, her money was almost gone, and she was starting to freak the fuck out.

I asked how much remained.

The number was hella low.

And that number turned me on because of how low it was.

Because crunch time means truth time so let’s fucking GO.

Let’s get to the guts of what was avoided when she spent and made those big dollars while by-passing the absolute truth.

Because if the investment and the sales were sourced from that (meaning there was no matter whatsoever), she wouldn’t be freaked out by this low number and she wouldn’t fear what may or may not come from this point on.

She’d also see that the anxiety isn’t from a dwindling bank account at all.

It was always there.

Reliant on, and in response to, illusory external security (and lack thereof) since the internal still lacks the stability required to feel secure regardless of externals.

Now it’s just being highlighted.

Damn, I love the crunch.

Because despite appearances, the crunch doesn’t create anything that wasn’t already there.

It just just shows you exactly where you’re at.

What you’re REALLY working with.

And how easily you can be moved.

And that you still have work to do.

Because if you’ve been using money or another as the buffer between you and YOU, you’re gonna come face to face with that in the absence of the money or the other.

Good.

Now we’re actually getting somewhere.

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Don't Pay To Get Something (An Essay)

In a call yesterday, the fella was talking about high ticket coaches and the idea that he needed to invest in them to make those big dollars himself.

I said there’s no A to B connection.

If you’re investing in someone to make money or to ‘get’ anything, it’s not a clean move.

Sure it can ‘work’ for a while.

You might land some big ass sales.

But as long as there’s an ulterior motive, those dollars are counterfeit aka not pure which means you’ll still end up exactly where you were until you’re ready to strip everything that led you to chasing the money in the first place.

The idea of paying someone for a future something you think you don’t already have, has got to go.

Pay someone because it feels hot as fuck to play with them.

That’s it.

Not for the thing.

Not for some illusory outcome you’re banking on to get your money’s worth.

Only for the experience you can’t get anywhere else with anyone else because your being just told you so.

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Swift Kicks For Everyone (An Essay)

It’s like people come to me with all these crutches and I just keep doing swift kicks to every fucking one of them.

And then they’re like, “WHOA. I never knew I could walk without those.”

And I’m like, “Bitch, I know. And you’re welcome.”

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Late To My Own Party (An Essay)

Years ago I wrote,

“Why is the world so late to my party?”

Because I knew what I was.

And yet, I could barely touch HER.

And I thought (rather felt; not even consciously - only in retrospect) that if others caught on before I did, I’d somehow land in ME.

Except plenty did catch on.

Plenty saw ME long before I saw HER.

Long before I could live as HER without the split that kept me blind.

It was me not showing up for MY own party.

And I didn’t even know.

All I knew is that it hurt so bad,

to feel so damn far from ME.

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“I heard someone say that you should always be a half a step ahead because otherwise a full step is too far and people aren’t able to follow along. Sure, you stand alone but like… literally all alone. I’ve always felt so far ahead and also very much alone. This need to be understood and followed by others has what has kept me waiting and idling while I hope the world will catch up. Then… before I know it, someone else has created that thing that has been incubating and was now sitting dead and unhatched. To have a finger in the pulse of something that isn’t actually alive yet takes balls and yes... big ole dick energy to carry forth into the world. Always fucking waiting for the world to catch up is a trap. Plus… it’s not even fun doing shit everyone else is doing anyway. Man, what was I thinking.” Kristin Moyer

Why You Can't Have What You Want (An Essay)

“I can’t have the things I want.”

Bullshit.

You’re the one saying no to them every time you say YES to a NO.

#isaidwhatisaid

Every time you say no to what would make your toes curl,

your heart race,

your edges burn with the fire of you.

Every time you do something,

anything,

for any reason other than it being the absolute truth,

you deny yourself,

you deny god itself (same thing).

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

And then wonder why your life isn’t dripping with YUM.

Everything you want is already at your feet.

If it can’t pass through,

that’s on you.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

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Disturbia (An Essay)

Instead of asking why someone did what they did (because you’re feeling some type of way about what another equally free human chose to do without explaining themselves or consulting you first), ask yourself why it takes so little to disturb you enough to remove the focus from you to them.

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I Call Bullshit (An Essay)

Her: “I have to master this level first.”

Before she can make the kind of money and moves she wants to make.

Me: “Did you really just say that to me?”

We both laugh.

“Once I…” is the perfect illusion / justification / delay tactic for not making the move that your system is turned on to make / take RIGHT NOW.

Not later.

It’s basically saying “I know that’s for me but let me ‘work on’ something else instead because I couldn’t possibly trust myself or my ability to create what I know I’m here for and keep saying that I want. I couldn’t possibly do something THAT crazy because of X but I’m sure that future me will trust me more than this me and then I’ll create what I’m here to create because by then X will no longer exist.”

Nah, bruh.

When you get the hit, you do it.

That’s how you collapse the illusion of X.

Because it never existed in the first place.

X is what you created to avoid the true move.

When you make the true move,

X ‘disappears’.

(Peep the Mandy Bite)

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I Know Why Things Aren't Working (An Essay)

Friend: “I don’t know why things aren’t working.”

Me: “I know exactly why.”

Friend: “I don’t want to hear it.”

Laughter on both ends.

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Dancing Around The Fire of You (An Essay)

I had a call with a hottie who was on fire until she started talking about her work.

As she spoke about it, the energy went flat.

I remained silent.

Then she stopped talking.

She asked what just happened.

She felt the shift as well.

It wasn’t what she said about her work.

It was that nothing true was coming through.

Which is why the energy of our very alive conversation died once she started speaking about it.

Moments later, she confessed that the thing she actually wants to write about publicly and express as part of her work and full being-ness, is the exact thing she feels she can’t write publicly about because of A, B, C.

The reasons don’t matter.

The fact that she’s denying herself and betraying her system of what it naturally wants to do more than anything else right now…

and the fact that she’s been withholding that expression for quite some time…

despite already knowing exactly what the first line of that extraordinary introductory piece is going to be and all that it will contain…

for fear of ‘exposing’ the truthiest truth she has ever experienced…

for fear of how others might react to said truth…

for fear of being THAT real…

and owning the full power of that truth and that level of self-expression…

is exactly why her work is flat and nothing within it is moving.

Tears.

Not because she was sad.

But because she knew that her being and her work now requires her to ‘expose’ (her word; not mine) that perfect and beautiful truth she’s been trying to avoid speaking about.

The one thing she always writes and talks around.

Expressing everything but THAT.

That one thing that’s more potent and powerful than all the other things combined.

That one thing that will break open all the rest that lays dormant as she hides behind the words that say everything but THAT.

Dancing around the fire of truth for fear of getting burned.

And now, a new choice.

If she so dares.

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A Little Coaching Secret (An Essay)

Even if they never talk about it publicly or directly, there is not one (great) coach / mentor / human who doesn’t regularly come up against their ‘shit’ aka their perfectly customized conditioning and does what it takes to remain free of it.

Where do you think all of that brilliance and wisdom comes from in the first place?

It comes from the same shit that everyone else faces.

They’re speaking directly (albeit seemingly indirectly through their posts) from having lived through exactly what’s being spoken about.

And the only difference between them (if they’re truly walking their talk) and everyone else (the majority of people who’d rather avoid actively looking at said shit), is that they genuinely want to play this game of facing and seeing through each illusion instead of allowing that mirage to lead their life.

Therefore, they do whatever it takes to become a master of themselves instead of a slave to their illusions, because for these kinds of people, there is simply no other option.

They’re here for the depth and breadth of living from the core of who they are, and built into that beautifully uncompromising desire is the requirement to face and learn how to play with all that arises; regardless of how it appears or what must be sacrificed in order to keep playing the game at a level befitting of these rare birds who are wholly unable to settle for anything less.

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I Could Never (An Essay)

“Oh, I could never do that.”

'That' being the thing you think others couldn't handle or won't understand.

‘That’ being the thing you actually want to do, but won’t allow yourself to do, so you use the imagined response of said others as the excuse not to do it.

But you can and you must do that thing specifically if you want to ‘break free’ from the make-believe shackles that those supposed others have got you in.

The chains that you so brilliantly created,

and wrapped around yourself.

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A Potent Life Recalibration (An Invitation)

A beautifully raw reckoning.

A potent life recalibration.

A pivotal unleashing of one’s innate power.

This is what happens through a call with me.

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The Mandy Slap (An Essay)

“Thank you for giving me a Mandy slap. It had to blow up. It had to collapse.”

I received this feedback yesterday from a hottie who had been spinning in circles forfuckingever.

Attempting to control what felt out of control for fear of what might happen if she just let go.

She said she had been doing this her whole life.

Talk about exhausting.

And talk about how much power she possesses if that much effort is required to suppress it.

When we chatted I didn’t mince my words.

Even though she was experiencing the rawest edge and pain.

A spot that most seek to soften for another.

Because it makes them uncomfortable.

Because they want to ‘help’.

Because they can’t see what’s really going on.

Because they actually believe the pain is real.

But the true being doesn’t experience pain.

The person who is out of touch with their true being, does.

(There’s more to this - for another time)

So I went right in.

To the eye of her storm.

Because I knew she was at her tipping point.

The hottest place to be.

Energetically, her system was BEGGING me to destroy that which appeared to be destroying her.

So I did.

By speaking directly to HER.

Not her.

And she collapsed on the spot.

Of course.

Then SHE began to erect.

Naturally.

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Riding The Edge of Money (An Essay)

When a friend of mine found out what I charge for a call:

Him: “Now that’s charging what you’re worth.”

Me: “No. I charge what turns me on.”

Which can change at any time.

Higher.

Lower.

Free.

Irrelevant.

I don’t associate money to (perceived) worth or value (two illusory constructs).

I play with the tension of it.

I work my way up or down with the price and the details of a specific offer until I feel a tad nervous or even nauseous about it.

Like I’m about to jump off a cliff (because energetically I am), which is just how I like it.

If the number makes me feel like, “Holy fuck. I couldn’t possibly charge THAT for XYZ.”

…then THAT is the fucking number.

No question about it.

Because it requires me to cross the same energetic threshold that my client will need to cross in order to pay it.

A turn on for us both.

When I ride my own edge, a client will need to ride theirs as well if they want to play with me on said edge.

You see?

It’s never about the number.

And it’s not about charging the most (unless that’s the truth).

It’s about selecting the sharpest point of truth and turn on, which could change from one moment, one day, one offer or one client to the next.

So I’m not attached to the number.

The moment a number feels energetically limp, I’m playing with a new one.

The new true one.

Until the next true one.

So fun.

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Stop Waiting On God (An Essay)

Overheard while someone was talking to a friend:

“Yeah and she said that I’m the kind of person the universe will take care of.”

Implying that there is something outside of us that will take care of some, but not all, and that this care is contingent on the type of person one is.

Oh, and that we aren’t responsible for ourselves and our creations.

Something else is.

Nah.

We are the universe itself.

We are god in the flesh.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

There is no separation, except in the mind.

We don’t need to hope or wait or pray to be taken care of by another, or by some external, invisible force.

We each have the power right now to choose and to create.

‘Waiting on God’ is waiting on YOU.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

Doing something, anything, with the intention, hope and belief that you’ll be seen, favoured and blessed by the gods (or god itself) is denying the power of YOU.

Nothing is outside of YOU.

YOU are all there is.

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I Know You're Ready (An Essay)

Today in the inbox of a hottie who’s clearly been feeling my posts and is ready to fucking POP:

Me: “I know YOU are ready. So what are you waiting for?”

Her: “I’m so fucking ready. All of a sudden as if overnight, everything has shifted and I am here.”

Bingo.

I called it.

Because I felt it.

So I made the move.

She then goes on to tell me about all the magic that transpired for her yesterday and last night - including a delicious chunk of money from someone who wanted to express appreciation for work she had done for him years ago.

Me: “HOT. Perfect. Of course. Are you ready to book our call?”

Her: “Yes. Let’s do this.”

Done.

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