Beloved Flower Lover,
The power of expressing her pleasures was to her all about having her way in the world. She knew it, we felt it.
Bragging. Celebrating her life. Getting herself to have fun. Her life changing pleasures kept opening up doors for her.
We wanted to find out how it all worked. We wanted her coaching. We wanted to feel what she feeling. That fire, that passion. We wanted it too.
She winked. No effort.
She was hot, so loved up by men and women alike. Just talking to her felt like a great adventure of excitement and ‘Santa Claus’ like happiness. Her stories were like great ‘gifts’ to the spirit.
They moved us, she moved us, we moved us. Active, we felt we could kiss and play. Resting and gathering up more energy. We always felt we could talk to anyone after hanging out with her. It was like we had cleared out any of our grudge filters with the brightest sunniest light ever.
We loved all the stories she was willing to share about her intimate life with her man. Her full commitment to her own joy, and sharing that joy irrespective of whatever was going on with her man taught us many lessons. Stop the melancholy. Stop the anger. Stop the images of self blame. Stop the images of lack. Stop the blaming. Instead soak up self forgiveness for thinking you had do things in the old way. Soak in self compassion. Soak up permission to change. Instead do something pleasurable for yourself however simple. However tiny. Soak into it. Scent, flowers, taste whatever. This attitude had made major positive ripples in her own life.
Her man brought her deep purple and red gladdoli. They looked sexy. She later got herself exotic flowers to keep that sexy energy ticking over.
Purple and red. She was playing with this passionate colour scheme for all occasions. She allowed the flowers to choose her. To create her own feelings of happiness. She let them work like crystals. To draw her inwards.To concentrate on her sex appeal. She was peaking to herself first. “When I have this floral combination in the house I feel like I am wearing sexiness”
Teaching us about how turning her self on by the things she loved was her inner adventures in paradise. Lush, exotic, living like each day was her last. Welcoming, inviting, approachable. She surrendered controlling her life. Owning instead how she was igniting her own spark.
Her sweet essence hung in the air we were breathing. Fun, lovable, beautiful and a great sharer. Her paradise was primal. We could feel the tingle down below. We felt that space and embraced it. Into infinity. We thanked her as we listened to our feelings. Yes we discovered that feeling of passion.
She generated her love.
Down below. We knew it bubbled over into ‘us care’. She makes us feel so lovable, so huggable, so … by nature.
Her primal signature. Having qualified herself on the inside.
Pleasure for her, the highest form of morality, keeps taking us all higher.
Happily, she giggles, laughs, smiles and surrounds herself with flowers.
Why are we telling you this, you let us know?
The London Flower Lover