Darren Austin Hall

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A TANTRIC VISION OF THE BEAUTY & TRUTH OF WOMAN

It is a stunning revelation in this life to recognize that some of my greatest growth has occurred in romantic relations with women. Whether love was consummate or unrequited, it always unleashed in me a wildly exuberant desire to improve myself for her; to ever restore harmony when we found ourselves fallen into the mire of dissonance; resplendent in worship before the glory of her naked and erotic beauty, radiating a power unparalleled to me by any other substance known on this Earth; a love that as a state of being has been continually expanding, as each lover nurtures and inspires the magnitude of the heart to fulfill greater capacity…there is nothing more sacred than woman...Nothing. If I hope to explain all the lessons of wisdoms I have learned from these captivating partnerings I would need more books and songs than I can ever write. And perhaps one of the greatest joys of my life will be trying to. The path of virtue has never been more rejoiceful to walk than with her hand in mine :)

Love lights the way, 
and the darkness curls round
the opening of its beam, 
to nestle
and cuddle together. 


When I look back upon all the women I have loved my eyes want to weep oceans upon oceans, until the origin of water is found in some magi’s lab, golden with the glee of sheer creativity; the pure bliss of union found in nectars floating ‘neath these hips; the supreme mountainous nirvana laden on the lips; the eyes of truth in her gaze that, in an instant of deep penetration, cause all of my defenses to surrender, and reach my heart no matter how hidden I may hope it be. These are no stolid prostrations before an altar of stone statues, static pictures, and shiny gems, but devotion yielded to a responding creature, blooming with abundant affections; of embraces that invite the most dastardly of us to come out from under shame and get warm by the fire of love, melting fears and those bad things I’ve done in a thrill of flowery hair, and a smile that sends joy into the sky to grow wings and fly. And when I am stagnant and lethargic in my spiritual progress, she demands I sustain the flow of ceaseless transformation, and ardent evolution which my soul is in constant allegiance to, though my body may betray. This is no whip from a stuffy teacher, but the smite of beauty that promises more and more beauty the more I open to receive it and vie for virtue, protect truth and holler justice with songs, dances and rituals of direction, to send the love back to its source, as message to restore more of the divine splendour which nature is.
            In my arrogance and patriarchal hubris, I thought it was the books I’d read, the teachers I sat before, the great thrusts of my will blasting forward through adversity. Indeed, they all make up arms of the mandala of my soul, and yet the central hub; the nexus that activates and moves the force through it all is my love for women; partners, lovers, friends and sisters of soul. They number in the billions I believe...Here I am, after all this time, searching for God, working for enlightenment, and in a moment of heart-break, a moment of deep yearning for one who will not fulfill my romantic wishes, comes a rash of reflections of this particular adventure to create love in partnership. And I am in awe in this reflection, seeing how much I have grown by this one; this love of mine who will not take my hand in this dance…and as bitter as that may be, how sweet it is to know how far she has taken me; how much she has inspired me to grow…I am in awe, and weep thusly, in the beauty of this power of love for her, that has made such a marvelous man of me; that has helped me transcend some of my darkest patterns, untie some of my most ruthless karmic knots, liberating so much of my soul to dance free and joyfully in the sanctuary of my body. 
Namaste: the light and dark in me sees the light in dark in you and there's so much in the heart that is understood...
...it doesn’t stop there, for in this vision, she turns to smile at another, the one before, and the tears become torrential as I recall this previous one, all the strength and wisdom that came from the womb of our loving. What children of the mind, body and soul were born by our own journeys in love and understanding. It goes on: they keep turning and turning to the ones before, a great line of women, who loved me so and whom I loved so that I bloomed beyond pain and limitations to be better, more loving of them, more honouring, more respecting, more understanding, so captivated am i and still by the beauty bequeathed by each of them on the power of truth; where truth and beauty wed...following their and the trails of love onward and onward. It has been this, woman, that has been my path…and one turns then, to my mother, as my navel tingles, memory of the cord that ties me so viscerally, as their turnings spiral into an oblivion of motherhoods, all the way back to a gleaming, shining womb of source, to great Mama, and there is too much beauty to understand…my smile has ripped my face apart…I am drowning in tears of bliss…I am…I am.