Recipe for a Hot Date

How do you choose to keep LOVE expanding?

My mom has always told me “Love doesn’t stay the same. It is either expanding or contracting. If you think it is staying the same, it is contracting”. This concept of Expanding Love has informed my LIFE, just as much as Intentional Creativity.

The Red Thead Cafe Letters Headers

Poetry JAM (aka PaJAMas)
Recipe for A Hot Date (in the early morning)
Expanding Love for Two from the Red Thread Cafe

1. 1 sleepy morning with 2 people in pajamas
2. 2 cups of tea/coffee and lit candles (yes this is important)
3. 1 hour dedicated to poetry aka: Intentional Creativity in service to Love
4. 2 journals and or laptops (so you can write in bed)
5. 2 metaphors stirred slowly into the sheets, add giggle as needed.
6. Open your heart. Add heat.Then write for a specified time. Stop editing.
7. Read out loud to each other, slowly.
8. What happens next is up to you and it is SURE to be DELICIOUS.
Repeat as often as needed.
Author of post not responsible for any love-fests, or any resulting children that were provoked from this recipe.
Bonus Ingredient: Add a photo of you from this moment. A bit of skin or piece of lace.
Further Instructions: Begin to write using the metaphor as an entry place. You can pretend like you are writing that person, after all they are right next to you. If you need inspiration you can lean over and sniff them, or touch their leg with your leg.
Just stir the metaphor simply around your thoughts of them. Don’t try to be brilliant, the fact that you are willing to do this is genius enough for the task.
Of course you could do this at night too, but the pajama part just makes it sweet. Of course you could do it with a friend or family member and just remove to hot sheet part. Of course, as Rumi did, you could do a Poetry Jam with the Divine.

Good Morning Lovelies,
I want to start with telling you something important:

You deserve to be loved.

And here’s another: Start with believing you are loved.
Even if you don’t know what that means. In some cosmic way, we are already loved, love is here, but we have to ENTER into it. When we choose to consciously participate in BEING love and sharing love and entering into LOVE, even and especially in the circumstances we are in right now, then LOVE is. This doesn’t mean everything is suddenly in a soft glow. It does mean we are dropping our resistances and being willing to risk expanding in a moment where we might rather contract.
This is creating with INTENTION. Intentional creativity that is placed in the service to love, and inviting LOVE to expand. Too often we go to sleep on love. Expecting it just to be there, but love is a growing thing and must be treated as such or it will appear as if it has changed over night and you wonder what happened. We have all heard stories like this or have one of our own. We say, they just ‘changed’, and maybe they did, but were you paying attention? Watching at the gates of their heart for flutters, interruptions, discontent. Love requires everything of us if it is to continue to deepen and expand. This is different than over giving to someone. This is as much for OUR hearts as it is to let our Beloveds know that we love them through our offerings and attention.
LOVE has cycles, yes, of expanding and contracting like the waxing and waning of our moon. Our job is to WATCH it with love, and curiosity. To not go to sleep on the shifting qualities. To be in inquiry about the cycles of love, to notice them and to make it verbal. Yes, to speak about changes, to bring them into the light. To not pretend like changes aren’t happening or hope they will just go away. They don’t. They go underground.
Intentional Creativity, Painting and Poetry is a huge recipe of how I survived the loss of a 16 year marriage. It is also how I stayed awake during the heartbreak  – in one poem I said, I will not go to sleep on the questions love asks. My former partner and I had completed a cycle and we both knew it. You might ask, how can I speak of love when I have lost my first love – well because I never went to sleep on my marriage and neither did he. We EYE OPENED moved our way through and out. Was it any easier, well in some ways because there was very little fighting at the end, we didn’t degrade into meanness, except for a few short bouts, that wasn’t where we came from or chose to transition. The love, didn’t go anywhere. It didn’t even contract, it just completed that particular cycle. And so began the cycle of grieving I felt I would never survive. Line by line of painting and poetry made me get up and keep creating and staying connecting to LOVE. And the potential spark that was flickering within me.

Three years + later I am in love again!  Those first two had qualities of expansiveness and days of what felt like hell. Like, let’s just move through the next five minutes, then we will tackle the next five.

And now. In love again, and very very very happy and amazed at this gift I get to live. And the way it overflows into my soul work. Is it ok to just admit you are ridiculously happy? I once had a conversation with Alice Walker where we agreed that being happy was a revolutionary act that would for sure piss other folks off from time to time. Around Cosmic Cowgirls though, we do our best to encourage out loud happiness. Bouts of it need to be acknowledged out LOUD.

For a time, I didn’t believe TRUE LOVE with all caps, would happen, but was still so grateful to have experienced and epic love at all.I don’t write about romantic love a lot, because I get emails from people who are so sad and they don’t like it, because it make them feel worse, and so I don’t do it very often. I feel SO sad to make someone sad, that I stop myself. But today I threw the hinges off my doors. Hopefully your key holes will begin to whistle, even a little. If you are reading this, and don’t have love right now. Go directly to the canvas or the poetry page and begin to write a letter to THEM. The one who is coming, I did that – not because I believed it would work, but because in some way I knew it brought me closer than I was without it. And THAT was something. Here we are at the Waldorf Astoria in New York when we visited the United Nation this Spring.
What you see below is the result of this morning’s Poetry Jam, which we call His and Hers, with none other than Jonathan Lewis, my love, my fiance, poetry partner, business partner and best friend. I wanted to share it with you in hopes of encouraging YOU to expand your love, and perhaps, spend some time in poetry with a loved one, maybe even this weekend.
This is Shiloh Sophia, reporting live from the sheets of the Red Thread Cafe.
Interesting Image

the way to live is open

there is this way

that the doors to my heart

have flung open so wide

their hinges are no longer useful to me.

so in the first Fall storm

after you came home,

you know the one that blew

all they yellow leaves on us

and you made a dress of gold for me?

and we danced to country music

pouring out of open window of the truck?

it was that storm

that finally busted out the hinges.

it was how you noticed the beauty

and showed it to me that caused me

to surrender any last holding of resistance.

yes I do see what you see.

so forget needing those doors to be well oiled

I don’t have need of them any longer.

the doors are just open now.

you don’t even need to knock.

But oh that first knock when you

came to my door! Who knew!

living this way with you

is exhilarating, breath-taking, my darling.

I won’t use the word fear

although walking around with

the doors of one’s heart blown

off is rather exposing.

you might need to hand me

your coat from time to time,

do you mind?


there is something in that

Southern sweetness that disarms

me. It started with one glance

and the doors began to

shake free of their locks.

those closed barricades

began to jostle in their hinges.

the key hole began to sing

with erratic winds through key

shaped openings. did you hear

it all the way in San Antonio?

songs of longing escaped

like gasps of breath not taken

in too too long all the way

from the streets of San Francisco.

I was calling your name, my

door was whistling for you to come,

and you heard me. It worked.

It doesn’t always work you, you know.


Finally you came to knock

a second time, this time

with suitcases in hand.

that second date as a doozy

as they say, and one year later.

eventually once all the

whistling in the keyholes had stopped

there was this quiet.

so quiet. we both seek

this kind of quiet.

where there is no

need for explanation

or pontification or

revelation because

our hearts are pressed

together with  no doors

and we know

we belong to each other.

we belong here.


still there is this key

I was wearing around my

neck the first night

we met. even though

there are no longer any doors,

this key belongs to you now.

If ever, for any reason

you should find

I have built any

new doors or windows

against the world or

most especially you.

this key will

remind us:

the way to live is open.

here it is. the key to the door of my heart.

it is yours now. and so am I.

Shiloh Sophia



Your Moons

What is the color of the full moon?

Why does its face, so pale and delicate

with nothing more to sew with than reflected sunlight

so capture and enrapture the sight and soul sense of the Earth’s beings


How is it that your face

shining in my own sight sense

can still the hands of time

and captivate my everything into my one thing

which is you


The traces of your sultry curves

catch the glow from your sky-sisters face in the quiet hours

Silvery arcs of light

that no lens could ever reveal

drift into our windows on the scent of the jasmine’s midnight stroll


The bow of your hips trace the curve of that perfect waxing crescent of potentiality

that hangs pendant and resplendent

as if only to please me and for I alone to witness it from my opera box


The full transformation of the cycle

from new to full to new

as the sun reclaims the night dew

and as the swell steals the waves heave

I see you

in the nights amber and teal tinted soft embrace


Your soul and mind and spirit

sing loudly in the night

Especially when you sleep

The music rises and thrums

Until I can no longer rest and then…

as my eyes open and clarity returns

the cacophony quells and my minds rioting ceases


Absolute stillness

Pounding heart in my chest be quiet

Flooded senses beholding a pillow full of tossed blonde

Pink perfect breasts bathed in milk white light

begging but intolerant of the slightest touch of my hands…


In my mind I trace your many moons

New full waxing beauty of nights peace

Radiant silver body glow and lavender shadow promise

I cannot disturb you


Soft moonlight, fill my mind and my nights

In silent gratitude I receive you my love