Hello and welcome to your soft sensuality practice,
Moon Dew Meditation.
This is a sensual practice of anointing,
Of slow pleasure,
Of becoming the night's chosen vessel.
So I invite you to close your eyes and let the world slip into darkness,
Into something softer.
Breathe in the hush of the night,
The silver hush that settles when the moon is full and watching.
You are not merely beneath her glow,
You are of her,
A lunar priestess,
A body made for worship.
And in this practice she anoints you.
She drips her pleasure upon your skin.
Tilt your head back just slightly,
Offering the top of your skull to the sky as if awaiting a lover's touch.
Imagine a single drop of moon dew forming from the moon resting at the very crown of your head,
Cool,
Luminous,
Glistening.
It hovers for a moment,
Trembling,
Before spilling over,
Sliding down and sinking into your scalp.
Feel it trickle,
Slow and honeyed,
Following the curve of your skull and pooling at the base.
Maybe your breath slows,
Perhaps your body listens.
This drop of moon dew flows downward now,
Anointing the back of your neck,
A cool kiss against warm skin.
It trails over your vertebrae one by one,
Tracing the sacred line of your spine.
With each drop something in you melts.
You are not rigid,
You are not braced against the world,
You are soft,
Fluid,
Supple under the moon's touch.
The dew slides lower,
Slipping between your shoulder blades,
Following the path where tension lingers,
Unravelling you inch by inch.
Breathe it in,
Allow your body to sigh.
The dew gathers at the small of your back,
Pearlescent and refreshing against the warmth of your skin.
It pulls there a shimmering silver offering,
And your hips begin to feel it,
The slow ripple of relaxation.
Maybe there's an invitation to sway,
A gentle tilt,
A shift of weight,
A movement born not from thought but from feeling,
A pleasure unfolding.
You are not just receiving,
You are becoming the moon's chosen vessel,
A body drenched in divinity,
Anointed in silver.
And we'll breathe here for a few moments,
Imagining this moon that floats at the crown of your head is continuing to drip droplets of sacred moon dew into the crown of your head and down your spine,
Into your hips.
Feel the pearlescence of becoming the moon.
When you next hear the sound of my voice,
I will guide you out of this meditation,
For now resting in the ambience of the moon.
When you're ready,
That doesn't need to be now,
You may like to bring your hands to your skin,
Press one hand to your heart and perhaps one hand to the lower belly,
As if you are gathering the last of the moon dew,
Absorbing,
Claiming,
Worshipping,
Breathing smooth,
Slow,
Decadent.
You are full like the moon,
You are luminous and when you exhale,
Let it be with the embodied knowledge that you carry the moon inside you now.
Not just above you,
Not just around you,
Within,
A secret glow,
A quiet pleasure,
A power only you can summon and when you do slowly begin to blink your eyes open,
Do so knowing that the night is yours.
