Romancing The Beloved

Romancing

The Beloved

Praise for Romancing the Beloved

"Romancing the Beloved is a true inspiration for every man or woman who desires a fulfilling relationship fueled by passion, tenderness and love. It is a romantic odyssey that awakens the reader to realms of sensual and sexual pleasure and healing. Joan reveals how we can transform our relationship into a fully expressed loving union, where we discover the sacred in the sexual and the sexual in the sacred. Her ability to share her innermost fantasies and fears, as well as her spiritual process, opens the door for us to recognize the Beloved within. Love and lovemaking has never felt so empowered, so spiritual and so sexy."

—Sandra Hay, Film Producer and Director, President of Unseen Pictures

Joan Heart field is a wise woman and her story is filled with inspiration and guidance for all lovers—a juicy initiation into the sexual mysteries, a journey of body and soul connection, a call to live courageously, and to savor sweetness and love with an open heart.

—Gina Ogden, PhD, author of Women Who Love Sex, The Heart & Soul of Sex, and The Return of Desire.

Impeccably honest and authentically courageous! Joan’s all-out-front amorous autobiography is an inspiration and a guide for deeply living the love we all long for in our lives.

—William R. Hearst II

Romancing the Beloved brings alive the sacred mystery of the soul. It awakens understanding about our lost heritage... the part of us that is Divine. It eloquently guides us to remember who we are beyond the stories, wounds, patterns, and pain. Joan weaves intimate details of her beloved relationship along with sharing her experience of sacred traditions, healing herbs of shamans, and cutting edge psychology. This book recovers lost knowledge and an important key for humanity... the power of sacred sexuality and its ability to awaken and free the soul.

—Aurora Juliana Ariel, PhD, #1 Bestselling Author, Creator of The Quest, and Award Winning Author of the Earth 2012 Series

A wonderfully inspiring book about an amazing journey into love, full of insight and humanity.

—Timothy Freke, best selling author of Lucid Living and Jesus and the Lost Goddess.

"I couldn’t put Romancing the Beloved down. On the leading edges of spirituality, sexuality and relationship, this brilliant, heartfelt and truthful story shines the brightest. Reading it has reanimated my own quest, and will be a companion on my journey."

—Daniel Giamario, founder and executive director of the Shamanic Astrology Mystery School.

A beautifully crafted and exquisitely descriptive account of a journey toward self-realization, Joan’s story is a deeply personal one, yet the gentle power it carries to touch the heart is universal. This book clearly demonstrates that love is the ultimate truth. Every chapter shows how a life lived with honesty, courage, integrity and an unwavering sense of adventure is a lovely thing to behold.

—Paul Six, author of The Great Love

Romancing the Beloved delivers a significant amount of rich content that can be applied to life immediately. It intricately weaves healing, sensuality, understanding of emotions, relationship, communication, and spirituality into an easily comprehensible, breathtaking tapestry. This book will comfort many with its warmth, energy, and love.

—Debi Hebel, Life Coach & Author

"Romancing the Beloved is a deeply moving dive into the heart of love, healing and awakening - a journey that will inspire and bless every-one who takes it. Joan Heart field is a force of nature, a true Bodhisattva who takes us on her incredible journey through very real human emotion and underworld journeys, before emerging a transformed modern goddess in divine service. I loved every moment of it !"

—Amrita Grace, author of Reclaiming Aphrodite - The Journey to Sexual Wholeness

I couldn’t put this book down. This beautiful love story illustrates a complete paradigm shift in love and relationships. It has literally re-wired everything I thought possible in, not only love and relationships, but also communication, connection, sensuality and magic. The best part about this story is it’s all true! Proof that too good to be true can be our reality.

—Danielle Vieth, Advertising Copywriter

"Just as the Celestine Prophecy spoke to the Zeitgeist of the 90’s, Romancing the Beloved connects us to the powerful current that many of us feel now. Indigenous cultures believed there would be a time when patriarchy would be transformed into a world where ‘power over’ would be replaced by real partnership. Joan’s book is a blueprint for how this divine transformation can actually take place."

—David Case, President, Case Enterprises

Romancing The Beloved

A Sacred Sexual Adventure Into Love

Her Story

Joan Heartfield, Ph.D.

Published by

Writerforce Publishing Pvt. Ltd at Smashwords

Mumbai, India.

www.writerforce.com

Copyright 2010 by Joan Heartfield, Ph.D.

First Edition 2010

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

http://www.amazon.com/Romancing-Beloved-Joan-Heartfield/dp/0984237119

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, by any mechanical, photographic or electronic process, or in the form of a photographic recording, nor may it be stored in a retrieval system, transmitted or otherwise be copied for public or private use - other than for fair use as brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews, without prior written permission of the publishers.

A Note to the Reader

Some of the names in this book are real and many are not. Some of the characters are taken from my life. Others are an amalgamation of people I have met on my journey. Artistic liberty has given me the opportunity to create a story that is both real and meant to entertain.

Preface

At the beginning of our relationship, I asked Tomas what his goals were. I was astonished when he said, I have one goal, Joan, and that is to love you as perfectly as I can. In the years that followed, that statement became the foundation in the journey of merging our lives.

This book, like my relationship with Tomas, has gone through a variety of changes. It began many years ago when I would share various aspects of my story with a friend or client. I would receive feedback that my relationship insights were helpful to them.

Sitting at my computer one day, I felt something emerging inside of me. It was a powerful force calling me to share my experiences in the form of a book. I felt an urgency to communicate what I had learned about relationships, particularly in the area of sacred sexuality. It felt as though the story had a life of its own, and wanted to be shared.

I tried to find a way that Tomas and I could write it together, but our attempts to weave our written voices were confusing and frustrating. In the process, however, we realized the immense value of our individual viewpoints, based on what we had each discovered. We saw that the same story, from the female and male perspective, created bookends that revealed even more of our journey. It became clear that we each had to write our own book to convey our unique perspectives of the way love opened our hearts and re fined our relationship.

As our writing project evolved, I savored Tomas’ book—his style and sense of humor—more than my own. He appreciated my focus and commitment. We encouraged one another to keep going when it often seemed easier to quit.

Most of all, I appreciate the choreography of events that could only have been created by the living wisdom of life itself. I call this ‘the Be-loved’. This voice of insight, which to me feels feminine in nature, has made herself heard and known in a variety of ways throughout my life. I can look back and see how this part of me holds more wisdom than I could ever imagine, and how it has supported me through my most challenging times. At first I found this water of life by accident, or luck. Finally, I learned to tap into this artesian well of radiant intelligence whenever I needed guidance. It never failed me. When I took the time to connect with her, she would always give me insight and direction beyond my emotional or intellectual understanding.

I am deeply grateful to those who have offered me love, inspiration and support in my life journey. Mentioning them all would be a book in itself, however, I must express my appreciation to the following people, who are all a part of this book in some way.

My mom and dad, who showed me how to love through their unwavering love for me.

Al Huang, who inspired me to dance as if no one was watching. Hana Veary, who showed me that the best medicine for someone in trouble is a sincere hug.

Swami Muktananda, who saw me long before I saw myself, when he put his hat on my head and told me to pass on his touch.

Dr. Irv Katz, who brought the first at-a-distance psychology program to Maui, and made sure I was in it.

Dr. Stanislav Grof, who guided me through a three-year pro-gram in Holotropic Breathwork, and from whom I learned how to journey into the subconscious and chart mystifying personal and transpersonal realms.

Drs. Hal and Sidra Stone, from whom I learned that my many inner voices all have value.

Angeles Arrien, whose Fourfold Path guided my life, and reminded me to listen to what has heart and meaning.

Daniel Giamario, whose Shamanic Astrology gave me profound in-sight into the archetypes, and how they live through me.

William R. Hearst II, who shared his brilliant insights with me, and taught me the importance of accurate articulation to support clear understanding, and for helping me to discover my radiant intelligence and emerging wisdom.

Caroline Muir, who invited me into the exploration of sacred sexuality, and whose friendship is one of the great wonders of my world.

And to my personal beloved, Tomas Heart field, who embodied and reflected the Beloved in such a way that I could come to see myself as her.

I am grateful to those who insisted I write this book, and often held my hand in the process.

Paul Six, who stayed with Tomas and me for three months and patiently guided me through my first draft.

Charlie Cantrell, who insisted that Tomas’ perspective and story was important, and who supported him in finding his writing voice.

Shalene Takara, my first editor, and the one who put this story into book form, whose questions invited me into a more honest expression of my life.

Michael Rowland, whose screen and story-writing course gave me the understanding of what makes a great story and the importance of using a consistent voice.

Summer Richardson, my second editor and dear friend, who spent countless hours with me as I read every word aloud, and helped me find a more authentic way to say what I mean, and enrich the story.

Introduction

I never saw it coming, the rogue wave of life that hit me broadside, picked me up and carried me to a foreign shore. Looking back, I wondered how I had been so blind as to not see it coming. Or was there another force at work, something waking me up, making sure I would pay attention this time?

Tongue-tied lovers have tried forever to describe what happens when love takes them, ready or not, into the place where the mind is struck speechless. It is romantically perceived as a time for poetry, celebration and a letting go of the sensible. We are guided away, body and soul, on a timeless journey. On the journey back, we are not the same.

This is where I found myself after meeting Tomas Heart field.

At that time, I was a perfectly sensible middle-aged professional woman in the middle of a life I had carefully cultivated to give me security, and a respected standing in my community. I loved my home on Maui, my work as a counselor, and my friendships. Unbeknownst to me, I had a stranglehold on my emotions when it came to the fifteen-year relationship I was in. I could be there to help others sort out confusion around their relationships, but felt too embarrassed to speak openly about my own inner turmoil and discontent.

Spiritual seeking had been my way to circumnavigate the discomfort in my life. My idea of spirituality was disconnected from intimacy, sexuality, or true emotional maturity. I assumed that relationships were challenging, and could never be fully satisfying. My idea of being a spiritual person meant sublimating my frustration and anger into my work. My work was my life, and I was certain it would be that way forever.

In one blazing moment, all this changed and a new possibility was shown to me. The Beloved, the mystical aspect of love itself, revealed itself, shattered my idea of who I thought I was, swept away all that was familiar, and showed me how to surrender to the passionate woman that I am. I finally learned to trust in the flow of life.

The Beloved gave me a preview of this coming attraction in a dream that changed me forever. My perception of connection and intimacy left me thirsting after this sweet nectar of loving kindness buried deep in my psyche. Next I discovered the poems of Rumi, who spoke of the Beloved with a passion and intensity that let me know he was writing about what I had seen in my dream.

When you find yourself with the Beloved, embracing for one breath,

In that moment you will find your true destiny.

Alas, don’t spoil this precious moment

Moments like this are very, very rare.

This book is my journey through the Black Water Lagoons of Panacocha, the expansive river of Tantra, the rapids of polyamory, and the tea tree lakes of OZ, finally plunging into the ocean of honest passion. The impetus to write it came from the deep gratitude I feel for the alive awareness of the Beloved that guided me through tsunami waves of confusion into the clear lake of love.

The Beloved is the seen and unseen spirit of love. It rests in our hearts and bellies, guiding us toward our highest options and steering us away from experiences we may regret. It gives us peeks into the future, arranges things for us, and it even has a sense of humor. The Beloved is called by many names: God, Goddess, Great Spirit, Source, Radiant Creative Intelligence, Benevolent Teacher and Great Mystery, to name a few. The Beloved is with us always; it nurtures us, gives us messages, consoles us, sustains us and celebrates with us through the voice in our heart. It can be our cherished friend, strongest supporter, and most brilliant counselor.

The most precious thing is this: the Beloved wants to embody itself through us.

When the Beloved embodied it self through Tomas, I knew I was being given a gift of immeasurable value. It took me many years to accept what was being presented to me. I had to come face-to-face with my habits and personality traits that undermined this essential spirit of love. I had to make a choice whether to be loyal to my old habits, or trust my heart’s deepest desire.

Each time I made a breakthrough and chose love over habit, I grew stronger. I discovered I could cultivate my relationship with the Beloved in me, even as I cultivated my relationship with Tomas. The more I of¬fered my allegiance to love and actively discovered how I could make life more wonderful, the more appreciation, understanding, respect and connection I felt for Tomas, and he for me. I began to think of this as ‘Romancing the Beloved’. It didn’t matter if I was directing that love to-ward the Beloved in myself or the Beloved in Tomas. The result was the same: more peace, joy, harmony, cooperation, support, consideration, passion, laughter and gratitude.

~~~~

Chapter 1 - A Preview of Coming Attractions

"If you open your heart, love opens your mind."

– Charles John Quarto

What’s up with this thing you’re going to next weekend?" panted Sharon as we sprinted up the steep incline on our regular, Friday, six-mile run. She was my favorite running buddy and a good friend.

It’s a three-day workshop in ethnobotany. That’s the science that studies how medicinal and shamanic plants are used in various cultures. That’s why I can’t run with you next Friday, and I’ll also miss our Sunday beach run. The workshop is being held at Camp Keanae, the YMCA Camp on the road to Han a. That’s a two-hour drive from my house, so I’ll just stay out there in the dorm rooms.

Sharon shook her long blond hair out of her eyes. I glanced over at her strong sinewy body and noticed it was now dripping with sweat, as was mine. Summer was not my favorite time to run in Maui, but I enjoyed my running dates with her. Sharon could have been my sister. At five foot six, she was only a tiny bit taller than me. My breasts were smaller and my blond hair was curlier than hers. Except for that, our bodies could have been pressed from the same cookie cutter.

Strange, I thought to myself, here’s the person I think of as my best friend, but I don’t feel comfortable sharing my emotional life with her, or with anyone, for that matter

I wished I could talk to my husband, Alfred, but I had tried so many times over the years, and at this point in our marriage, I felt it was hope-less. Both Alfred and I were individual and relationship therapists, and the truth was, I felt embarrassed talking to anyone about something I was supposed to be an expert in. Our last spat had me churning inside. Why wouldn’t he listen to me?

I had met Alfred twenty years earlier when he was offering Primal Therapy on Oahu. At that time, I was struggling with anxiety and depression. In three sessions with him, I felt better. A few years later, he moved to Maui to teach at the same college where I was teaching and we became friends. With all of our similar interests, it seemed natural when he began courting me. A year later, we got married after a work-shop we attended in Los Angeles. The leader pointedly said to us, If you want to be successful, get married. Now it was fifteen years later and we were financially successful, but in the last ten years I had virtually disappeared into my role as counselor and therapist to those in need. I enjoyed helping people, but there was a quiet desperation I sometimes noticed in the pit of my stomach. Each day I took my hour run and saw clients. On Sundays I worked in the garden, ran on the beach and swam. I had no idea that there could, or should, be more for me than what I already had.

My inner dialogue started running along with my body. When I felt upset, I tried to talk myself out of it.

Maybe you’re having a quiet mid-life crisis, Joan. Just don’t be dramatic about it. So what if your relationship isn’t all you had hoped it would be? Be grateful for the good things that have come from this partnership. After all, Alfred inspired you to run, urged you to get your Ph.D., and now you make a good living. Yes, you work long hours, but look what you get to do. You get to help people put their relationships back together, find one to put together, or help them cope with the trauma of a bad accident or loss of a loved one. You live in a virtual paradise. Come on Joan, you have the perfect life. Just do your job to make the world a better place and let that be enough.

At around the three-mile mark in our run, I felt a pain shoot up my left leg. It was so severe that it caused me to break stride and tumble, nearly plunging into the irrigation ditch below.

Sharon turned around and ran over to help me up. With concern she asked, Are you okay? You seem distracted today.

I’m fine, I said, rubbing my leg. In my client sessions, Fine meant frustrated, insecure, numb and exasperated. Hmm—that could describe what I really felt. Admitting it to myself was as far as I was willing to go for now. I was just thinking about the workshop this weekend, I said to throw her off track. Sharon was intuitive, and I didn’t want her picking up the truth.

So what on earth inspired you to go to a workshop about plants anyway? I didn’t know you were interested in botany.

I’ve been fascinated with shamanic medicine ever since I took anthropology at UCLA in my junior year. If I hadn’t already been majoring in dance, I may have become an anthropologist. It’s fascinating to see how various cultures use plants, not only for healing purposes, but also how some of the shamanic plants affect the spiritual evolution of cultures. This pamphlet came in the mail a month ago and I felt compelled to sit down and register right away.

I remembered the thrill that ran through my body as I addressed the envelope. Dennis McKenna, Terence McKenna’s brother, is going to be there. I got to see Terence once, a couple years ago, and he’s brilliant. I don’t know if Dennis is anything like him. I just felt guided to go.

I had actually surprised myself in taking that action. I didn’t spend money easily, and I usually had to have a good reason.

Terence is the guy who talks about psychedelic mushrooms in that funny, high voice, isn’t he? Sharon asked. "Is this workshop about those kinds of plants?"

"It’s about all kinds of medicinal plants, including those kinds. I’ll know more the next time we run together. I have to admit, the experiences I had with those kinds of plants opened my eyes to how sacred life is. It amazes me, under the right conditions, how a substance growing in nature can turn you into an inner astronaut."

Sharon shook her head as she reflected. "When I lived in Haight

Ashbury we had a lot of fun using psychedelics, but I saw a few of my friends flip out. But then we were all so young and inexperienced."

I retied my shoes and stood up. I understand. You can’t do psycho-tropic medicine casually or you can really get in trouble. In my experimental days, psychedelics opened me to a world beyond my cultural trance and gave me a real reverence for life. I saw the energy that streams from everything and connects us to the web of life. Those experiences gave me a respect for the life energy inherent in every part of creation, and for the capacity of our consciousness. There was so much more to life than I realized, until then. I think many people want to know what’s behind the curtain of appearances. Some choose religion, some choose meditation, and some choose substances as a way to try to understand life more fully.

We chose running today, don’t you think we should get back to it?

We started off again, a little more slowly so we could continue talking. I was thinking about your friends who had bad trips in Haight-Ashbury. I’ve had clients who have also had bad experiences. The crazy thing is that before the sixties and the widespread use of psychedelics, those kinds of substances were only ever used in a sacred way. They were used for healing, or to connect the individual or tribe more profoundly with spirit. Before the pharmaceuticals, such as LSD, there were just the sacred plant medicines. The cultures that used them only did so with the support of a shaman or guide. That person led the sweat lodge, or whatever the ceremony was in that particular culture. I was lucky to have someone who knew about creating the right set and setting when I had my first experience. He made sure I was in a comfort-able, safe environment, with people I loved. I spent a lot of time with my eyes closed, going inside. When I finally went outside for the first time, he helped me tune into the earth, water and air. I used my experiences for inner growth, and to connect more deeply to this beautiful planet, rather than to simply ‘trip out’. I’m grateful for that. I only wish there was more understanding in our culture of how to use these sacred substances. They are extremely powerful and you don’t ever want to do them without a real guide.

No kidding. Sharon’s voice trailed off. She shook her head and her voice brightened as she said, Hey, have you heard of ayahuasca? A friend recently wrote and told me that she was able to stop her alcohol addiction after one experience with this stuff."

Really? I know a man who would benefit from that. I’ve heard the name and I bet I’ll learn more about it this weekend. Maybe I’ll discover some magic elixir to help my clients find peace in their lives.

We’d come to the end of our run. I hugged Sharon goodbye as she got in her car. See you in two weeks, she smiled and winked, And try not to get in too much trouble! Her words triggered excitement in me, and a chill ran up my spine.

The next day, while running alone, the chill returned, along with a peculiar sensation in my belly, a gut feeling of something coming. I often had this sensation before big changes in my life, but today I dismissed it and kept on running. This exhilarating anticipation came into stark contrast with my disappointing interactions with Alfred. Running was something I loved to do, but the following two days on my runs with Alfred, his forecasts of doom and gloom, that were sure to befall us at any moment, turned my stomach into knots. The first day I just listened, but by the end of the run, instead of feeling uplifted, I felt sick and depressed. The following day, when he began his harangue again, I told him I just wanted to run in peace. He accused me of being an ostrich, that all I wanted to do was stick my head in the sand. I wanted to yell, Shut the fuck up, but instead, as usual, just seethed inside.

Friday came, and as soon as I slipped into my car to leave for the weekend, my breath deepened and I felt more relaxed. I was relieved to be getting away. The two-hour drive would give me time to reflect.

What was it that was so challenging in my relationship? Alfred was a good person and the definitive intellectual. That was what drew you in originally, Joan, I blurted out loud, talking to myself as I sometimes did when I was alone. I wondered at first if it was a sign of instability, but argued myself out of that diagnosis. When I heard the truth spoken in my own voice, at least I could admit it. Since I didn’t have anyone I felt at ease sharing with, I counseled myself. You never saw yourself as smart and he had a quality you wanted. It was fine as long as he was the professor or therapist. But now… Thoughts swarmed like bees in a broken hive. It was true Alfred had encouraged me to go back to school to get my Ph.D. in Counseling Psychology. I’d had some great teachers and learned all the right techniques. But the fact was, I needed something more alive than a technique in my marriage.

You’ve got to take a look at your love life, I continued aloud. The first time you married your childhood sweetheart to please your mother. Your marriage to Alfred moved your career forward. My voice softened, the ache in my heart longing once again for the feeling in that damn dream I had fifteen years ago, shortly after my marriage to Alfred.

The dream was as vivid now as it was then. I remembered my eyes wide with wonder, as I looked into the eyes of a man who was caressing me with a gaze of love, devotion and adoration. The quality of that look opened my heart and body to rushes of the sweetest love I had ever known. This was my beloved! I was being recognized and claimed. I wanted to merge with him, melt into him like warm honey. I felt a pro-found connection beyond anything I had ever experienced with any-one before. I was safe, seen and felt in every cell of my being. Thrilled and rapturous, I knew I would be happy simply looking into those eyes forever. When I awoke, I was riveted by an ecstatic passion that left my body tingling, and confused. I remembered lying in bed, almost in shock. I felt as though I had just lost my best friend, whose life infused mine with a unique certainty I could trust.

This is what I want, I realized, to feel connected on a soul level. Since I was newly married to Alfred, what was this dream telling me? It revealed a possibility of an eternal love, a love so powerful and euphoric, maybe it was reserved for the world of pure spirit. Despair flooded the pit that had opened up in my stomach, threatening to take me with it into depths unknown. It’s all right, Joan. Your beloved must be your animus, your inner male, a masculine twin of your feminine spirit. There’s no way you can experience this level of beloved connection with a real person in this lifetime. You’ll reconnect with this ecstatic being when you die. This is the world you’re living in now, so get on with it.

The dream slowly faded as time passed, and I found other things that enchanted me. But somewhere inside the disappointment lingered, and my yearning for that quality of deep intimacy haunted me. From the dream, I could imagine what this might feel like, but I didn’t think it was actually possible to have it.

I saw this yearning mirrored in many of my clients. Even those who were happy with their relationship were still looking to be met more fully, and the relationship they longed for never really materialized. Compromise was the name of the game for me, but now and then the longing for that soul-quenching love left me feeling unsettled.

Life with Alfred was not bad and often it was good. He was healthy and pleasant-looking, with a runner’s body and curly dark hair. We enjoyed hiking and swimming, and we had gotten more involved in teaching workshops. Over time, however, Alfred’s continual complaints about the past, and his unwillingness to hear me, began to undermine my respect for him. He would often bring up how unfair it was that the college had let him go. I felt angry recalling the dialogue. How could he not get that he was responsible? I recalled a particularly annoying dialogue with him and said, Alfred, you know you did things that precipitated this action. The last straw was smoking in the bushes with your student and… Before I could finish my sentence, Alfred began pacing the floor, his jaw jutted, his hazel eyes flashed angrily, I was a good teacher. So what if I did that? The other college I worked at didn’t care what I did with my students. Before I could say anything else, he stomped out. Joan, I shouted silently to myself, why do you even try to make Alfred see how he created getting fired? He only gets upset and angry with you. Why don’t you just shut up?

Worse than trying to point out how Alfred got himself into problematic situations, was trying to share my own feelings with him. I recalled the white-hot anger that flashed through me when I tried to tell Alfred how painful it was when he interrupted me and walked out. I was just trying to help you, I said to him, If you could only understand your part in this, maybe you could let it go. Using the communication technology we taught our clients, I asked, Could you please tell me what you heard me say? With a smirk on his face and in a singsong voice he mimicked, What I heard you say was you were just trying to help me see my responsibility. I wanted to