RISE, A Modern Guide for the Purpose Driven Woman Summer 2014 | Page 31

In my yoga teacher training, one of
my fellow students was a professional
dancer. She wanted to experience what
stripping was like as a dance style. So,
she got a job at a strip club and worked
there for a week.
She remembers two things. One, she
found that the routine performance of
sexiness to be pretty exhausting. And
two, she was stunned by all of the cocaine used by the dancers backstage.
A New Narrative
Every spiritual tradition asserts that
there is something sacred and wondrous
at the heart of life. Sexual energy is one
way to approach this mystery. It should
be honored and celebrated. We must
never return to a repressive approach to
sex, characteristic of much of our Victorian and Puritan past. Yet, we would be
wise not to nurture the other extreme.
We are more than sexual commodities,
regardless of what advertisers, pimps, or
porn producers proclaim.
The voyeuristic hunger to consume vast
quantities of increasingly violent sexual
imagery represents a serious disjuncture
of heart and mind, body and soul. Is it
possible to change the “body as commodity” narrative so prevalent in our
culture? Can we stem the tide of the
“body as weapon” narrative that leaves
only pain in its wake?
As we reflect on these questions, it’s important to remember that the body and
sexuality are not the problem. Rather
it’s the narratives of meaning we spin
around our primal energies that free or
damage us. Narratives matter. The human erotic template is highly malleable.
As Highwater writes, “What we want or
what we do, in any society, is to a very
great extent what we are made to want
and what we are allowed to do.” When
woven into the fabric of a mindfulness
and compassion, sexual expression can
bring great joy. If enough of us integrated
our sexual energies thus, much would
change. For myself, I embrace the

natural beauty of the human form.
I’ve modeled naked for college art

classes and I love to dance. But combining the two to make money never
interested me. Even as a young woman,
I rebelled against the hyper-sexualized
narratives projected onto my body.
There’s something about the unholy alliance of capitalism and patriarchy that
turns the sensuality of a woman dancing
freely into a scripted performance for
nameless voyeurs. Such a narrative is one
I reject and feel compelled to challenge
-- if not for my own sake then for the
young people I teach and the children I
love. When I watch my two-year-old son
play with his toddler friends, I wonder.
What narratives of sexual expression will
shape them come adolescence? For their
own wellbeing and the integrity of a life
well lived, I pray that Gonzo-style porn
is not in the picture.
Conclusion
I saw Jeannette once more after the episode at the border.
Upon leaving Nelson, a familiar van
driver greets me with a smile. I ask if he
has any update on Jeannette. “Nope, not
a word,” he replies.
Once across the border, the driver stops
to refuel. I get out of the van to stretch
my legs. Then I see her. “Jeannette!” I
yell. “Jeannette!” I jog over to where she
is standing.
She is subdued and withdrawn. Her face
is pale. She smokes a cigarette. I’m happy
to see she’s alive. “It’s Amy. Remember,
you met me a month ago at the bus
station i