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Resurrecting the Male Divine

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Resurrecting the Male Divine

Teacher in Conscious Sexuality and Values Based Relationship Frameworks. Intimacy coaching 💚

Seamus has trained at the London School of Tao in the arts of Sexual Kung Fu, Chi Nei Tsang and Taoist Shamanism. An advocate and teacher of deeper intimacy between couples through practical tools like the wheel of consent, conflict management, archetypal roles, understanding your masculine and feminine qualities and values based relationship contracts and agreements. For successful relationships to exist, grow and evolve it initially needs to be grounded in practical communication skills and utilize a shared understanding of values and principles. Setting a strong foundation of self-awareness and defining the criteria of what is an empowered relationship; provides the platform for healing our past-experiences and creates a shared vision of how to move forward collectively in love and respect.

“When the foundational qualities of our relationships are practical, respectful and defined; an invitation is created to lower our armour and defences. Deeper experiences like playfulness, vulnerability and pleasure will naturally appear in new and safer ways on all levels. – Seamus”

Seamus has led men’s groups in Vancouver and a Jade Arrow men’s group in London UK;. Attended advanced Tantra workshops and retreats and has taught Reiki to 100’s of students for over 15 years. Book Seamus today for a 1-on-1 session to assist with change and growth in your relationships and to break past patterns to attract in the right partner for you.

12/09/2025

FIRE S*X

I was thinking about Hard S*x and Fire S*x.

They're not the same thing.

Fire S*x is presence.

Fire s*x is my entire body, my eyes, my mouth, my throat, my voice, my heart, my belly, my Lingam, my pelvis, my legs.

It may be hard, and deep and fast.

And it can be slow.

It's an expression of intention.

It's an expression of opening, of masks dropping, burning away.

Of stories confined to the flames.

Of armour melting.

It's an expression of surrender.

It's an expression of how much we'll allow ourselves to be revealed, how much we're we're willing to let go.

It's how much we'll show, how open we can be.

For in the Fire of passion there's no holding back.

There are no secrets, nothing left uncovered.

In the Fire, in my eyes, if something remains hidden, you'll see it, you'll know.

In the Fire, if my Heart remains closed, you'll feel it, you'll know.

Fire S*x is a commitment.

To presence, to love, to passion.

It's a commitment to body, to heart, to mind, to spirit.

To myself, to you.

There's no lukewarm, there's nothing that's tepid.

There are flames that will take us to our essence.

There's no dipping a toe into the water.

There's a dive into the feeling, into the sensation.

It starts slowly, this fire.

It starts with our eyes, and our breath.

It starts with opening hearts, opening voice.

It starts within us.

My fire, your fire, becomes our fire.

It spreads to our bellies, to our s*x.

It's hard, it's wet.

It's opening.

It reaches from my Heart to my Lingam, into your Yoni, to your Heart.

It has a voice this fire, it has eyes that see past our skin, it's the Fire of Feeling, the Fire of Knowing.

Fire S*x is whole-body s*x.

It's dancing, breathing, singing, growling, moaning, panting, roaring.

It's consuming of all that holds us back.

It frees us, this fire.

It frees us to a primal place of oneness.

And when the fire slows, when it quietens, we are left spent, open, seen, felt.

We lie in peace, in tenderness.

We lie connected in intimacy.

We soften.

Our bodies re-form.

And the embers glow within us.

Until a breath brings them once more to flame…

~ Jonti Searll
*xuality *xuality

12/09/2025

I love being drawn in long before anything physical happens.

Honestly, I need that spark first.

Playful teasing, clever jokes, and flirty comments warm me up more than anything.

That kind of connection is its own kind of foreplay for me.

Real chemistry is created by giving just enough of a hint to build curiosity,
without revealing everything at once.
It’s that mix of wanting and wondering —
Will this happen? How will it unfold? Who will lose control first?

In Ta**ra, they talk about stretching moments of pleasure,
not rushing anything,
letting the energy grow and flow through the whole body.
That feeling of warmth, bliss, and deep hunger
can stay with you for hours… sometimes longer.

Foreplay, after-play, all the little in-between moments —
they don’t have to be short.
They can be part of the connection all the time.

You want that spark moving between you both,
even when you’re not touching.
It doesn’t mean you have to take things all the way every time —
the point is to keep the fire alive,
or at least glowing.

A little flirting, a soft touch, a knowing look,
something that keeps the energy warm every single day.

It’s the intimacy that comes before anything else.

*xuality *xuality

12/07/2025

I want a best friend.
Someone that I can talk to about everything.

I want a lover.
Where the s*xual chemistry never dies.

I want a partner.
Who will collaborate on creating my dream life.

I want someone trustworthy.
That can help me heal my deepest wounds.

I want someone who grows.
So we can continue to reach for more together.

I want a soulmate.
One with who it feels like it was just meant to be.

I want them to be committed.
So they choose me again and again, every day.

I want them to be patient.
And willing to work through any challenges we face.

This… right here… this list…

This is the greatest challenge with modern dating and relationship.

For many of us…
When we dream of our ideal partner…
We want it all.

And the thing is…
We can have it all.

I'm not here to preach the idea that nobody can meet all your needs.
I'm not here to sell you the story that you need to settle.

But I am going to say one thing…

If you want it all
You need the skills for it.

Relationship is a skill.

The collective belief is that relationships just happen.

If you are lucky,
You find someone you like and they like you
and then you just kind of figure it out
and live happily ever after.

Yet that's not how GOOD relationships work.
Because they take work.

If you want to heal,
you need the skills to heal.

If you want to grow,
you need the skills to grow.

If you want s*xual chemistry that lasts,
you need the skills to create chemistry at will.

The thing is… everything you ever wanted in relationship
Can be yours.

If you have the tools, and the skill to use them.

~ Damien Bohler
*xuality *xuality

12/06/2025

There comes a moment in a man's life when his strength is not measured by what he can do, but by how deeply he can feel. Most men never reach this moment. They keep running from their grief, playing self-assurance and calling maturity. Yet every man carries a little boy inside him, one who longs to be seen, held and loved without needing to prove a thing. When a man finally mourns this boy, something changes. The inner noise is getting quieter. The tension is releasing. The man that emerges after this is no longer a man. He's livin' it.

Every boy grows up thinking that emotions are dangerous, that crying means weakness and that sensitivity makes vulnerable. Many men learned early on that love is conditional and that security comes from control. So they build walls of success, silence, humor, distraction, s*x, dominance or retreat. These walls once protected them. But as adults, they become the prison that separates them from true connection. The real initiation into manhood begins when those walls begin to crumble.

A man who has encountered his own sorrow carries a different presence in him. You feel her before he speaks. There is a calmness in him, but also depth. He no longer needs to prove he's strong because he encountered his own weakness and stayed in it long enough to know it didn't destroy him. He's been sitting in his pain with no one to blame. That is where integrity begins.

A safe man is a dangerous man. Not because he is violent, but because he has made peace with his own potential for destruction. He knows what he's capable of, and that's why he doesn't have to live it. You feel his edge, this raw, tamed potential of power. This edge makes him peaceful. A man who has integrated his shadow has no need for dominance, manipulation or control. His danger has become his presence.

Being safe does not mean being soft, as it is often understood. Many men confuse safety with niceness, but “niceness” is a defense mechanism. It's the adaptation of a boy who learned that appreciation means love. The safe man, on the other hand, is rooted. He can hold tension without breaking down. He can disappoint people without losing himself. He can say no without guilt, and say yes without expectation. Kindness seeks validation. Security is the embodiment of integrity.

A man who wants to be pleased by everyone reveals himself first. Being a secure man takes courage. Courage to stand for something even when it's uncomfortable. The courage to speak your truth, even if it shakes the room. This truth doesn't have to be loud. She just has to be real. Security is not created by adaptation, but by consistency of a person who lives in accordance with his values.

In relationships, this shows up everywhere. Many men believe it's their job to make a woman safe, to heal her wounds or to fix what's broken. That's not love, but over-responsibility disguised as caring. A man cannot regulate another man's nervous system, and he shouldn't try to. What he can do is create in himself a field of calm, a presence strong enough to hold a woman's expression without evaluating. His task is not to heal them, but to meet them in all their bandwidth, in their tears, their joy, their anger, their gentleness. That makes him trustworthy.

To live with an open heart, a man must develop a relationship with his grief. This relationship is the bridge between his heart and his strength. Grief is the teacher that destroys illusions. She keeps you humble. She is teaching him to feel what he can’t control. Only through this process can he truly receive love. Without grief, love remains an idea. With grief she becomes truth incarnate.

Many men unconsciously give their emotional needs to women. They want to be understood, seen and comforted, but seek it through romantic commitment rather than brotherhood. When a man is constantly dependent on women for support, he limits his own potential. Masculine energy grows in the presence of other men, through challenge, reflection and responsibility. Brotherhood is not a competition. She is the room where a man meets himself without sinking into shame. When men stop shifting from their own inner work and begin to walk that path together, the collective heals.

Mature masculinity is not a goal. She is an ongoing practice of integrity, responsibility, and emotional awareness. She arises from failure, reflection and improvement. A man will make mistakes. He's gonna hurt people he loves. He's going to get lost. What makes him secure is not perfection, but his ability to bounce back to his center after every fall. He learns, he repairs, he grows. He stops defending his image and starts defending his truth.

The man who can, who knows his grief, carries his strength with humility, takes responsibility without control, and holds space without losing himself, becomes a force of stability in a chaotic world. He personifies Presence. He will become a place where others can rest, not because he saves them, but because his own nervous system has learned to stay.

This is the work of becoming a safe man. It is the silent revolution of our time.

Joe Turan
Art: same
Source-Sacred Divine Masculine
*xuality *xuality

12/06/2025

Meet me at the edges of resistance

What of the dance, this dominant sway,
where a lover’s hand meets the longing ache
of threading fingers deep, weaving through your hair,
each pulse, a promise whispered in tangled strands
that I am here to know you,
to draw you close, surrendering all the ways
you shiver beneath the weight of wanting.

Let me taste the spark that rises on your skin,
the slow burn that gathers in soft sighs,
breaths catching in the soft shadows
between each teasing touch, each patient pause.
Your moans, barely spoken yet filling the room,
spill from your lips like secrets slipping free,
capturing the quiet rhythm we share,
a beat of bodies entangled, bare.

So come closer, let’s press beyond restraint,
hands tracing paths yet to be discovered,
mapping the places that make you shiver,
where pleasure mingles with anticipation,
and every gasp, every breath taken
is a step deeper into knowing all of you,
all the ways you come alive,
under my hand, under my touch,
wrapped in this delicate, primal dance
where we lose ourselves
and find each other whole.

What of the dominant dance,
my hand guiding, tracing lines unseen,
finding their way to the heat of you,
through tangled strands and soft surrender…

a knowing touch that says, I am here,
here to know you, all of you.

Here, to taste the hidden sweetness
that blooms on your skin, when want becomes need,
to draw forth those soft, stolen sounds,
the little moans that escape like whispers,
like secrets meant only for this space.

What of this slow unraveling?
The way you tremble, caught between breaths,
each touch a spark, each sigh a flame,
until the distance between us fades,
until nothing remains but the rhythm,
the steady pulse of a lover’s claim,
and the quiet surrender
of two bodies learning their way to become one.

What of this fire behind your veil,
this hush of silk between our breaths?
Do you not feel my yearning in the quiet?
It calls to you…not loud,
but deep, beneath the skin,
where the spirit listens with lips pressed against desire.

I seek no conquest, beloved…
only the trembling hush of your nearness,
the sacred ache in your sigh
as I trace verses upon your frame
with lips that know no prayer
but your name.

You are the wine I am forbidden,
yet I drink..
slow, reverent….
from the curve of your neck,
where the pulse stammers its secrets.
Your body, a scripture I read in the dark,
each breath a line, each movement a revelation.

Come, let us vanish into each other
like dusk into night,
not hurried, but holy
where pleasure is the language of surrender,
and the soul bares itself
not with words,
but with trembling touch

Let go…of thought, of time, of fear.
Fall with me
into the silence that follows each moment
into the fire that asks for nothing
but everything.

Let me lose myself in your yes,
and find you…

not once,
but endlessly.

Larson Langston
Book of blush
*xuality *xuality

12/06/2025

The Altar Is Her Body

A man spends his life proving strength: lifting heavier, earning more, speaking louder, standing taller. He mistakes force for power, tension for control. Then one night he meets a woman who doesn’t ask him to prove anything. She simply opens: legs, eyes, heart, all of her, and says, without words, “Come home.”

In that moment he understands: every battle he ever fought was practice for this one surrender.

Real masculine power is not the clenched fist.
It is the open hand laid gently on her skin while his whole body trembles with the effort of not taking, not rushing, not performing.
It is the courage to stop leading and start listening to a rhythm older than his name.

When he finally lets go, truly lets go, something ancient wakes up inside him. The same force that raises mountains and splits oceans rises through his spine, but this time it isn’t trying to conquer anything. It is bowing. It is pouring itself into her like a river finally reaching the sea.

And there, inside her softness, he discovers the paradox he has chased across gyms, boardrooms, and battlefields:
The harder he surrenders, the stronger he becomes.
The deeper he yields, the more invincible he feels.

She is not weakening him.
She is unhooking the armor he never knew how to remove alone.

In her body he finds the only altar where his strength is welcomed without suspicion. No need to posture, no need to protect. He can shake, he can cry, he can roar, he can fall apart, because she is not a temple that never closes its doors on a worshipper in ruin.

The moment he dissolves into her completely, no edges, no name, no tomorrow, ecstasy cracks him open and the secrets spill out:
He is not the doer.
He never was.
He is the offering.

That is the greatest power a man will ever know is the power to lay his entire being down at the feet of the feminine and trust that she will not break him, only break him open.

When he rises afterward (if “rises” is even the right word), he is no longer the same man. Something quieter, deeper, truer walks out of that room. He has touched the divine, not by climbing toward it, but by kneeling.

And he finally understands:
The universe was never hiding its mysteries from him.
It was waiting for him to stop trying to take them
and start offering himself instead.

*xuality *xuality

12/05/2025

The Outer Lover Is Only the Key

You think you fall in love with her eyes, his shoulders, the way she laughs, the way he listens.
That’s the surface story.
The deeper story is this: you fall in love with the stranger inside you who finally gets recognized.

The woman you cannot stop touching is not the destination.
She is the doorway.
When you lose yourself in her body, in her tears, in her wild yes and her terrifying no, something older than your personality wakes up.
Your inner woman (soft, chaotic, receptive, lunar) stirs from a sleep that may have lasted lifetimes.
She stretches, looks through your eyes, and whispers, “At last. Someone who speaks my language.”

The same is true for her.
Your steady gaze, your hands that do not flinch, your silence that holds thunder; these are the code her inner man has been waiting to hear.
He straightens inside her chest and says, “I remember you.”

The outer lover is never the point.
The outer lover is the tuning fork that makes the inner lover sing.

Most people stop at the skin.
They come, they conquer or get conquered, they leave.
Nothing inside them moves.
They mistake friction for fusion.
They never meet the second miracle: the inner marriage.

The true or**sm is not between your legs.
It is between the man and woman who live inside you.
When those two finally f**k (when the inner masculine penetrates the inner feminine with total presence and the inner feminine receives him with total surrender), the whole universe climaxes through your body.
Time stops.
You disappear.
Only light remains.

That is the secret of Ardhanarishvara: Shiva and Shakti fused into one body.
Half beard, half breast.
Half spear, half lotus.
You are already that statue.
You just haven’t taken the blindfold off yet.

But you cannot force the inner wedding inside by meditation alone.
You need the outer beloved to strike the exact note your soul is tuned to.
Choose wrong and the inner woman stays asleep; the inner man stays in exile.
Choose right and every kiss becomes a homecoming to yourself.

So stop dating “nice” or “hot” or “convenient.”
Date the person who makes the hidden half of you stand up and roar.
The one who scares you a little because being near them feels like standing too close to your own edge.

Man: choose the woman so radiantly feminine that your inner woman wakes up jealous and grateful at the same time.
Woman: choose the man so unapologetically masculine that your inner man finally feels safe enough to lay down his armor.

When those two outer poles lock, something sacred happens:
the electricity runs straight through both of you and strikes the altar inside your chest.

Then s*x is no longer two nervous systems rubbing together.
It is one soul remembering it was never split.

That is the only intimacy worth starving for.

Everything else is just rehearsal.

*xuality *xuality

12/05/2025

I would like to take care of you,
without wanting to change you,

🌹 to love you,
leaving you free,

🌹 to take you seriously,
without forcing you,
to come to you,
without imposing myself,

🌹 to give you something,
without expecting anything in return,
to be able to say goodbye to you,
without fear of losing something important,

🌹 to talk to you
about my feelings,
without placing responsibility for them on you,

🌹 to share my knowledge with you,
without lecturing you,

🌹 to simply rejoice in you…

If you, with the same feelings,
step toward me,
we can enrich each other.

~ Khalil Gibran
*xuality *xuality

12/04/2025

I see more and more men doing "the work", going into their shadows, looking actively and compassionately at their trauma.

They are coming to terms with their suppressed emotions, without losing their masculine edge, their leadership, the connection to their King energy.

They're stepping up, leaning in, diving deep, and surfacing with new-found energy and embodied power.

It's glorious to witness.

I also see more and more women applauding that, being (their) man's biggest cheerleaders, and expressing how grateful they are about him finally catching up.

I see their posts, their beautiful appraisals, their happiness and sighs of relief that they finally can lean back into their feminine.

So far so good.

Make no mistake, though, that "doing the work" and healing often goes in waves and takes turns.

Not always, though. But often.

Women challenged men to grow because of all the work they did. And men chose to take this challenge and are catching up.

And now, as men rise from their dark night or even dark years of the soul, their new brightness will shine a light on the shadows that women have avoided, denied, bypassed, deflected and ran from and this will be the next level of growth, if they choose to take the challenge and catch up.

Women call for men to grow, and then men demand from women to grow again...

It's the process of co-creation, the universal law of cyclic evolution.
The ultimate expression of teamwork.

We only have to honor each other's cycles and paces, be patient, and trust in each other's abilities.

That's how we expand, individually and as a collective.

~ Bas Waijers Baumann

*xuality *xuality

12/03/2025

I didn’t fall in love because he was perfect.
I fell in love because he made the broken parts of me feel safe.

Because he didn’t run when I got quiet.
He didn’t shut down when I overthought.
He didn’t judge the parts of me I was still learning how to heal.

He saw the pieces I kept trying to hide…
the ones I thought made me “too much,”
the ones I thought no one would ever understand.

And instead of pulling away,
he held tighter.
He stayed patient.
He showed me I wasn’t hard to love
I was just used to being loved the wrong way.

He didn’t fix me.
He didn’t try to glue me back together with promises or pressure.
He just stayed long enough for me to feel safe enough to put myself back together.

And that’s the thing people forget…
healing doesn’t always come from someone who says the right words.
Sometimes it comes from someone who simply refuses to leave when you’re at your most fragile.

So no…
I didn’t fall in love because he was perfect.
I fell in love because he loved me gently
on the days I didn’t even love myself.

12/03/2025

The Masculine Presence Your Heart Is Waiting For

Every woman, whether she speaks it aloud or buries it beneath years of self-protection, carries within her a longing to be met by a presence strong enough, deep enough, conscious enough to hold her fully.

This longing is not childish.
It is not a fantasy.
It is not an unrealistic expectation.

It is the feminine truth.

The feminine does not thrive on superficial attention.
She blossoms under presence — real presence —
the kind of presence that feels like warm hands on her soul.

But presence is rare.
Not because men are incapable of it,
but because presence requires a man to have walked through his own fears,
faced his own shadows,
and chosen integrity over comfort.

A man cannot offer presence if he himself is absent from his own life.

Presence is not simply being in the same room.
It is not occasional eye contact or a few kind words.
Presence is a quality of consciousness:
a grounded, steady, unwavering attention full enough
for a woman to relax into.

A woman relaxes not because the world is perfect,
but because she feels held.
Because she feels met.
Because she senses a masculine energy that won’t disappear
the moment things become emotionally real.

Presence is the antidote to her years of disappointments,
the medicine for the wounds created by inconsistency or avoidance.

She is not asking for someone flawless.
She is asking for someone fully there.

But what does it mean for a man to be present?

It means he listens without bracing.
He hears the tremble in her voice
and doesn’t turn away from the emotion beneath it.
He sees her tears
and doesn’t feel threatened by their intensity.
He feels her anger
and doesn’t collapse into defensiveness.

He stays.

Not with passive resignation,
but with attentive devotion.

This kind of presence does not smother her
or try to control her or direct her.
It simply holds her in a way that allows her to unfold.

Presence is not domination —
it is containment in the sacred sense.
It is a steady, grounded energy
that creates a safe field for the feminine heart to open.

When a woman is met with genuine presence,
her entire being responds.
Her breath deepens.
Her body softens.
Her chest begins to expand rather than contract.
Her emotions move freely.
Her heart feels witnessed, not judged.

Presence allows love to circulate.

When presence is absent,
a woman feels alone even in partnership.
She begins to doubt her worth.
She starts to question her needs,
wondering if she is asking for too much
when all she truly wants is connection.

But presence from the masculine does something extraordinary:
it restores her trust in intimacy.

Presence says:
“I am here.
I am with you.
I’m not running.
You don’t need to hold everything alone.”

And because of that, she can finally exhale.

This is the power of the mature masculine —
not in grand gestures or heroic acts,
but in the steadiness of his awareness.

A man who has grown into his masculine essence
is not afraid of a woman’s depth.
He is not intimidated by her feelings.
He does not interpret her emotional expressions as attacks.
He does not shrink under the pressure of her truth.

Instead, he welcomes it.
Because he understands something essential:

The feminine’s emotional movement is not chaos —
it is life.

A woman’s emotions flow because she feels.
Because she loves.
Because her heart is awake.
Because her body responds to energy, tone, presence, and sincerity
far faster than her mind does.

When a man meets this movement with presence,
he offers her the greatest gift a masculine being can offer:
a safe, grounded, conscious container
within which she can be fully herself.

And here is the hidden miracle:

When a man offers presence,
the feminine naturally opens.
And when she opens,
the entire relationship deepens.
Love expands.
Connection intensifies.
Intimacy becomes effortless.

Presence is not merely something a man gives.
It is something that transforms both partners.

A woman does not need perfection.
She needs presence.
She needs a man who knows where he stands,
who knows who he is,
who stays connected even when emotions rise,
who can look into her eyes
and see not just a partner
but a soul asking to be met.

And when such a man comes into her life,
her entire being responds —
not out of dependency,
but out of resonance.

The masculine presence she has always sensed,
always desired,
always held space for in her heart
was not a fantasy.
It was a future truth she was destined to experience.

Because the feminine does not dream of presence —
she remembers it.

— Inspired by Dear Lover, David Deida

*xuality *xuality

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