Hawaiian Cultural Evenings - Come Show Your Solidarity

I'm helping to organize these events. Please plan on attending one or both of them. It'll be a great weekend, because the Aloha Festival is also taking place that weekend in San Francisco.

August 2, Saturday
A historical play by Helen Edith "Didi" Lee Kwai about resistance to U.S. annexation.
Presented by the Ka Lei Maile Ali'i Hawaiian Civic Club of Honolulu.
And a special presentation by Keanu Sai, a well known activist for Hawaiian independence.
Redwood Gardens Community Room
2951 Derby Street, Berkeley, CA
www.kaleimailealii.net
Evening time and cost TBA

August 3, Sunday
Hawaiian Cultural Evening at Ashkenaz
Kapalakiko Hawaiian Band
Singer Regina Wells (of Ojala)
Play: Ka Lei Maile Ali'i - The Queen's Women
A historical play by Helen Edith "Didi" Lee Kwai about resistance to U.S. annexation.
Presented by the Ka Lei Maile Ali'i Hawaiian Civic Club of Honolulu.
And a special presentation by Keanu Sai, a well known activist for Hawaiian independence

Ashkenaz
1317 San Pablo Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94702
www.ashkenaz.com, 510-525-5054
Doors open 6:30, Performance starts at 7 PM. 
$10.00

Both events benefit Ka Lei Maile Ali'i Civic Club (who need to make up their travel expenses from Honolulu).

Speaking of Death... Resistance to Burial Desecration on Kaua'i

www.youtube.com/watch

A California contractor name Jospeh Brescia is attempting to build a 7,000 sq. ft. vacation home on top of a burial ground of Native Hawaiian kupuna. The descendents and relatives of those people are camping out to protest the construction. This is a very sad video. If you feel moved by it, protest by emailing the developer at his office: jbrescia@aga-ca.com

Think how you would feel if the bones of your loved ones were treated in this disrespectful manner.

Michael Rossman, passed away May 12th, in Berkeley

Michael Rossman, my dear friend and ex-lover, died on May 12th from complications of a rare leukemia. His obituary was published in the SF Chronicle last Saturday. Here is how I've remembered him in a post to his Live Journal blog.

--------------
Not forgetting the trickster, coyote spirit of the man, a man who frequently described his actions or impulses as "transgressive" -- an impish sprite and a serious rebel.
Not forgetting the man who danced with me at TantraFest while creating an impromptu poem on the absurdities of the event, singing it loudly as we darted and swayed like two Bollywood extras. We left early, after knocking over an image on the altar, spattering candlewax everywhere... leaving slightly shamefaced, but gleeful and exhilerated.
Not forgetting the man who accompanied me, with respect and curiosity, to a local Makahiki observance, gamely trying to twist his tongue around chants in 'olelo Hawai'i.
Not forgetting the man who took me along poster hunting at anti-war demonstrations, and who little by little let me into the mysteries of the poster room, finally urging me to make a serious study of the eros portion of his collection.
Not forgetting the man who channeled the raucous and hungry spirit of "Tom O Bedlam" at a benefit at Project Artaud.
Not forgetting the man who loved my dog, who gave the furry person of my household more respect than any of the rest of us. Who gave him joy too, playing dog like on the floor, juggling the small beast like a furry ball.
Not forgetting the man who took my skewed and amateurish statistics and tore 'em apart before I had a chance to embarrass myself by handing in a flawed school project. Not forgetting the fun he had doing it, while getting his ration of platelets and red blood.
Not forgetting the hundreds of chocolate bars we ate, ritualistically, critiquing the wrapper, the cacao content, the flavor. Not forgetting the notes he made on some of the wrappers, in small, cramped handwriting.
Not forgetting the gazing -- the transcendent experiences of face beyond the face beyond the face and the subtle energies streaming, the rapture and wonder we felt at this observable, but not measurable, and increasingly reliable connection.
Not forgetting his capacity for unconditional love and friendship. Not forgetting his capacity for deception. Not forgetting what he told me, and what he left out.
Not forgetting our journey to Hawai'i -- our sail on a double-hulled canoe and his nude climb up a volcanic cliff which worried the captain of the boat until he finally reappeared, covered with bleeding scratches but happy as a kid; his digging up of botanical specimens; his eye out for road kill as we drove the long road from Ka'u to Kilauea. Not forgetting his pissed off dumping of a pig skull in a trash can at the Honolulu airport, when he realized it might be likely be confiscated by agricultural inspectors before the flight.
Not forgetting the many nights which were still not enough. Not forgetting that my son made him a lego robot, a few days before his death.
Not forgetting that others loved him too, and that we all had our reasons for doing so, and for sometimes suffering as a result.

From another one of my Blogs -- posting it here too

Into my life...

The inexplicable enters, has entered, takes possession, stays a while, and when it leaves, it leaves behind a lingering imperative: pay attention, keep on, don't stop.

And so I'm willing to stumble in and out of mysteries, looking and feeling foolish, making mistakes, and occasionally experiencing wonders. Real wonders. True magic. But only fragments of revelation. Odd that this happens to me -- a European "mongrel" of Celtic and other origins -- mostly in conjunction with Hawai'i.

I feel the universe is forcing us to connect, to make amends, to move the work, and above all to save the beautiful home and parent that is our Earth.

Yesterday a dear friend who is dying gave me a dusty, spiderwebbed treasure -- a lei po'o made of the tiniest shells. It is very old. Is it from Ni'ihau? It looks like it. How did it come into his possession? A garage sale. He didn't purchase it because it is Hawaiian, but because he collected things from all over the world, things made of shells, bone, stone. Marvels of craft.

And so it has sat, among the other treasures of nature and humanity that have gathered dust in his crowded years of life on earth. And now it comes to me, not so much as a possession and a treasure, but as a message. In making his transition across the threshold into that realm we call death, he came back to consciousness to discover this object about a week ago, buried under so many other papers and treasures, to pass it on to me. Yes, I will be the kahu for this as long as it is appropriate. I believe that the message it holds for me will become clear, and then I will pass it on. Return it, perhaps, to an appropriate place or person in Hawai'i.

Lei po'o. The po. The message. The entry of cosmic and spiritual awareness into a human heart. The gifts of the ocean. The mineral workings of tiny creatures who have their own exquisite artistry... and the passage of one soul from earth to spirit.

Into That Good Night

Auwe, auwe, farewell to thee. The phone rings today and it is the ex-wife of my ex-lover. And she is about as "ex" as I am -- in our own ways, each still very much involved emotionally with the man who is passing away. I don't have sex with him anymore, haven't for several months, but he is still energetically connected to me and a dear, beloved friend. His influence on my life has been profound.

And in a little while, I will go over to where he is sleeping, passing in and out of one state of being into another, beginning to accelerate his transition across the threshold. I will go to say goodbye. He is in my photo collection here, the man of the sea, and the man standing in front of the mural on Telegraph Avenue.

He made the front page of the S.F. Chronicle the other day, but not by name. He appeared in a tiny photo of a Berkeley Free Speech march, one of those young men in suits and ties holding a banner reading "Free Speech," all of them not knowing quite yet just how profound would be the changes brought about by their struggle, and the common struggles of Civil Rights and the Vietnam War and the burgeoning exploding cultural revolutions of the 60's. As one tiny fragment of his life made into print once more, he was spending the bulk of his day, as he has for weeks and weeks, getting blood and platelet transfusions to stay alive.

He is, in a real sense, a wise and visionary elder of the revolution. His insights are born of the long struggles, his own life of trying to match ideals and "realities," the complex tensions between expansion and limitation (his and others around). He wrote several books, and has spent much of the last few months downloading his writing, both published and unpublished, onto a website. His astonishing words may be read at www.mrossman.org (I'd better check that URL).

Besides his mountain of astonishing words and insights, Michael leaves behind his dear family and friends, a life chock full of ex-lovers too numerous to count, the three women (including me) who will shed the most currently bitter tears, a diminishing group of Free Speech veterans and political comrades of the 60's, hundreds of children who learned science from him or who went to summer camp with him, a huge collection of beloved political posters, rocks, plants, books, assorted cookware, bones, an attic full of "stuff," his silk shirts partially eaten by moths, and whatever unintentional science projects are left in his refrigerator.

The memories we have held to us, and will continue to hold dear, may someday be stitched together with other memories held by other intimates -- and perhaps only then will we get an inkling of the true scope and nature of this precious, rare, and amazingly joyful being that was, in this life, named Michael Dale Rossman.

Go with the gods and with the clouds, Michael. Take with you our collective love and our individual blessings. Be at peace, dear one, and join me one day in another meadow, where we will laugh, delighted with our mutual recognition, subtle energies dancing and embracing once again.

Farewell to thee.

Research on the frontiers of Sexology

Busy, busy here. Trying to complete graduate school. I'm steeped in research and study.

I've just posted a link to the Summary Report of my Survey of Asperger's Syndrome and Sexuality on my website - www.tantra-intimacy-aspergers.com. And I've started a new survey on Native Hawaiian Sexuality, which is my doctoral topic.

More details to follow. For now, I'm spent. But this is great information and a wonderful period of discovery.
Hau'oli Makahiki Hou! (Happy New Year!)

Wild Oscillations

I haven't spent much time here on Tribe lately. Life has been alternately sad and glorious. It seems to be a time of upheaval, healing, challenges and hard work. The month of October was hugely busy -- I spent three solid weeks at the Institute, with only one day off (not even a weekend), immersed in the fall term classes. My instructors and my classmates were truly awe inspiring people. The material dense and rich and disturbing (especially during the STI course). Then, with only a couple days of rest, I spent four days immersed in preparing for and working in a tantra workshop as an assistant. So, at the moment, I feel quite spent and delicately made -- not yet recovered from this massive effort. My family were great during this time when I was barely around. My husband, in spite of our differences, came through with shining colors. I feel very supported and grateful to him.

With regard to my first timid steps to a clinical practice of sex counseling and education, I am pleased to say I've sublet a therapy office on Sundays, so I now have weekend hours available. And I've set a regular schedule of time when I'm available, on Mondays, Wedsnesdays and Fridays -- mornings to early afternoons.

And I did go through with my Introduction to Sacred, Sexual Huna workshop in Berkeley last Friday. Attendance was slight, but it was a positive experience even so. I am excited about the material I presented. I intend to hold the same workshop very soon at another location and follow it up with a complementary one, Huna for Sexual Health. I really see the usefulness of this (somewhat derivative but still valuable) tradition as a complement to many 'sex therapy' techniques, as well as having much to offer to the overall perspective on human sexuality.

But with two people near and dear to me dealing with cancer right now, I am still rather a mess. And there's been other pilikia, betrayals, misunderstandings. I ho'oponopono with it all...

Fortunately, there are other things that are wonderful, healing and happy in my life. So how strange to teeter wildly on such a thin tightrope right now -- despair and sorrow on one side, great happiness on the other. But really, I'd rather just have a little chance to rest and regroup right now. There's far too much going on.

Definitions of Sexual Behavior

There may be as many definitions of human sexual behavior as there are kinds of human sexual behavior! We can make distinctions in many ways.

For example, we can make a simple definition based on biological function. Sexual behavior can be either:

1) Procreative, which includes only those acts likely to lead to reproduction which are accompanied by the intent to create a child;
2) Non-procreative (recreational).

So should we include artificial insemination in a definition of procreative sexual behavior? In some religions, procreative sex is the only type deemed “natural” and favored by an otherwise punitive god. If artificial insemination, a rather “unnatural” process for the most part, is permitted in those religions, would the adherents (and their god) also look with favor upon the “turkey baster babies” of some Lesbian couples?

And what of the new mother who experiences orgasm while nursing her child? Should we consider nursing a sexual behavior, or as a natural extension of a reproductive behavior that just happens to have a sexually pleasurable component? I’ve heard of one young mother, full of shame, who called a hotline to ask about her “feelings” and who had her baby taken away from her because a social service worker feared child abuse.

Perhaps this definition is not so simple after all.

Sometimes people limit their definition of sexual behavior to either “good” or “bad,” using the simplest criteria: “Good is what I do. Bad is what everyone else does.” This definition is popular with politicians and fundamentalists, and maybe your next door neighbor too.

In his Sex Atlas, sexologist Erwin Haeberle breaks it down this way:

1) Sexual self-stimulation,
2) heterosexual intercourse,
3) homosexual intercourse,
4) sexual contact with animals.

What about sexual contact with inanimate objects? I guess that falls in the self-stimulation category, but panpsychists might quibble. More importantly, Haeberle’s categories omit the transgender, gender queer and intersex folk.

And should we make a distinction between having sex with only one of anything (people, objects, animals) at a time versus sex with more than one of anything at a time?

Here’s another point. Many Tantric lovers have experienced profoundly pleasurable lovemaking through “subtle body” (energetic) sex which does not involve physical touching. I also have come across people who claim to have had sex with spirit entities, including angels and the astral bodies of famous rock stars. Are they delusional, or are they really on to something? The ancient Hawaiians acknowledged the phenomena of “kane o ka po” and “wahine o ka po” (men and women of the night), spirit lovers who visit and become attached to human beings. Terrified Christians ward off intrusive incubi and sucubi. And UFO enthusiasts get abducted by aliens who have their merry way with them...

So, given the above, perhaps we could describe sexual behavior this way:

1) Energetic or “spiritual” sexual behavior performed by only by subtle bodies;
2) Material, physical, carnal behavior; or
3) A combination of the two.

But how do we categorize phone and internet sex? Should we have a category for “machine sex” since these hot (and often lucrative) exchanges depend upon mechanical, electronic devices?

And I guess, with regard to alien life forms and the earthlings who love them, we need a way to distinguish “Earth Sex” from “Space Sex.”

Jack Morin, author of The Erotic Mind, distinguishes between three different modes of sexual behavior:
1) erotic trance states,
2) partner engagement,
3) role playing.

And according to him, the ultimate erotic formula is:

Attraction + Obstacles = Excitement.

This is depressing news for committed couples. Aren’t there some people who prefer a cozy cuddle to scaling a cliff for a zipless fuck?

At this point I’m desperate for a dictionary. Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary defines sex as: “sexually motivated phenomena or behavior.” Well, what motivation is the common denominator? Pleasure? Some people enter sex through pain (and achieve pleasure...). Some sexual motivations are more manipulative than pleasure seeking. Some are purely commercial. “Motivation” is a murky term. The reference to “behavior” is murky too. For example, how do we distinguish narcissistic preening and posturing from an actual, intentional “come on?” And while a rapist might consider rape to be “sexual behavior,” the victim will only feel unwanted aggression.

Sexual behavior can be purely mental, as in fantasies. Two famous sexological research instruments, the Kinsey scale and Klein Grid, consider “orientation” (including fantasies) as important as actual behavior.

We could, of course, go strictly by the physical changes associated with the onset and culmination of sexual desire. We could adhere to a medical or anatomical definition of sexual behavior and say that only those activities or thoughts which provoke specific changes to the genitals, nervous system, hormones, blood flow, smooth muscles, etc. deserve to be called “sexual behaviors.”

But I’ve learned that our REM sleep cycles trigger erections in men and lubrication in women, and that these cycles happen every 90 minutes. I don’t think any of us would consider these physical occurances to be true ‘sexual behavior.” They are purely involuntary and unconscious.

And what about people who have a disability or medical impairment -- who become aroused, but don’t get erect or lubricated or have orgasms, or who have little sensation in the genitals but plenty elsewhere? Such people can experience pleasure, satisfaction and intimacy. They’re going to insist they had a sexual experience, even without full array of classic physical responses.

Some people only like to watch. Others always close their eyes.

Some only want “vanilla sex.” Others want their nuts on top, or in a vise.

And let’s remember that just as our sexual choices have expanded, so has our range of genders.

And even some asexuals admit to self-pleasuring.

I see no way to avoid the broadest possible definition of sexual behavior, one which encompasses spiritual, mental, and possibly even karmic factors as well as social, cultural, and physical aspects. Sex may encompass a drive for intimacy or a drive for distraction. It may reproduce or be sterile. It might give pleasure or pain, satisfaction or frustration. It might be tender or rough. It might include genitals, or it might not. It might be a vehicle for the fullest possible expression of human love, or it may simply be a marital chore. There may be desire or repulsion, or both. It can be transcendent or deeply carnal, or both.

Sex is what we think and feel it is. Perhaps the only single factor we can agree on is a craving for it. All others factors are variables.

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Note: this is also posted to my Live Journal blog. This is a paper written as part of my studies in Clinical Sexology at IASHS.