I met Nichelle on a Vancouver tantra harbor cruise. It was a magnifico summer night and we floated around on a party boat in the calm water for three hours as the Sun descended. Someone had brought a plate of cannabis brownies. We were all feeling the indica vibe deep in the Pacirica Northwest.
A mutual friend introduced Nichelle and me.
Besides swooning at her otherworldly beauty, I knew I had met someone I could open up to. I told her that, and she said come see her in her studio the next day. I found my way across town.
I walked in the outer door. A receptionist, also a stunner, with dark brown spiral braids on the sides of her head, and gazing brown eyes, sat at a kind of reception desk. She said go right in.
Nichelle was kneeling at the center of a large, sunny room that seemed circular.
I knelt down across from her. We sat in silence, left-eye gazing for a few moments, and when we recognized one another, she said: tell me.
So I told her, everything, as best I could, as she absorbed patiently. Then we sat in silence. She said, your path is called Hazukashi-sa no michi. It exists but it is rare and many tantrikas never meet one.
But that is you: Hazukashi-sa no michi. The way of embarrassment as self freedom.
There are many doors into ‘the space’, though some are concealed and narrow openings…or they are veiled…and yet everyone feels a little bit of this one. Everyone is called just a little though the rarity is the courage to respond.
The essence is: go toward embarrassment when you feel it. It seems like a bar — bar is is in the word. Yet it’s really a soft veil veil, inviting you in, and when you push aside the veil and go through, you will discover your bliss and have a new experience of liberation each time.
She suggested that I strip and face the mirror, really, a triptych of mirrors a few feet back from one of the walls. I walked up to the space and dropped my clothes and sat on the a little stool facing three of me.
She said, say the words to yourself: Hazukashi-sa no michi. Look at your eyes.
I said, Ha - zo- kashi - sa - no - michi.
And say it again. My penis was quickly becoming full with blood and heat, and then stood up craving touch. I did not.
Ha - zo- kashi - sa - no - michi.
Yes, the path of embarrassment. Embarrassment as liberation. An opening in the defenses of the ego, the lure of deep pleasure making it the more irresistible over time.
I was flushed with desire like I had never felt. My penis making me feel vary naked.
Nichelle picked up a little bell and rang it. Into the space, her assistant emerged silently, and looked right at me in the mirror. She studied me; I did not dare make eye contact with her in the reflection. I held my own gaze.
Nichelle said: Ha - zo- kashi - sa - no - michi.
Her assistant repeated the words, and added, definitely. Then Nichelle said, you may touch yourself and say to you what you said to me. In not so many words, I admitted my thirst and my need to surrender vagina.
I said, I am so thirsty. I surrender vagina. I licked my hand and pleasured myself.
Her assistant said, he is sweet.
Nichelle added: One thing that will help your entering the veiled space will be to hang a photo of your face at orgasm in part of your home where others may see it, such as in the bathroom. I said I would do that.
Then Nichelle said, that is good, we are now going to leave you to your private thirst and your freedom and your self-witness. The two barefooted women quietly walked out the door, closing it softly behind them, leaving me facing myself in three reflections.
