Oil Tears

The fluids of heightened sensuality दर्शन தரிசனம்

There are so many different textures of tears. They can be rounded and crystalline. More wet, broadly moving over the face. Some flows of tears need one, two, three drops to feel complete, and sometimes there are tears that feel like the infinity of the grandest ocean.

Also, it feels like there are even different sources ~ glands, chambers ~ these tears seem to appear from. Our somatic consciousness is so wise. It’s the most gorgeous thing to recognize.

Truthfully - I love all kinds of tears, and I adore all parts of our being that they are sent from. It’s such a sensual practice our body learns so early on. Crying is deeply healing and a fantastic somatic release - especially when we integrate it in a refined way after.

When I stepped into the Ma Shakti Temple in South India a few weeks ago, I received one of the most sacred tear flows of my life. It was the day I arrived in Tamil Nadu from wild Mumbai-Ma, and I spontaneously made the call to visit the temple after golden hour sunset. Alone. Wrapped in my new silk-cotton scarf and my airport clothes, since my suitcase didn’t make it due to IndiGo (another wild story).

I felt good and had already been blessed with a tuberose garland and jasmine gifts upon my arrival down south. With my bare feet and no phone (nor cameras), I entered through the west side of the temple - even though I would usually enter from the east. But for some reason, this all felt smooth, right, and aligned.

I turned the corner to walk and, shockingly yet calmly (does that make sense?), saw the shimmering light of an oil candle called Deepam ~ meaning sacred flame ~ shining in front of a deity that was one of a Nayanmar, someone who was once a living human and, through deep devotional practice, became holy.

Out of the blue, everything felt so much darker. But the strong flame kept me standing there. I felt people silently passing me. I couldn’t move. I felt stuck - and deeply, sophisticatedly planted - at the same time.

My heart felt like burning incense, fragrantly opening, widening. I felt like a new cellular infusion had arrived. And bear in mind - this was only at the front gate of the temple palace grand space. I was standing in front of this temple guardian, so deeply present it hurt and felt like the greatest ecstasy at the same time.

With the next breath, I placed my hand on my womb and touched my heart - again feeling men and women coming in for evening prayer, locals who do this as their daily ritual. I could also feel how much they care about this sacred site.

I took a step further in and noticed the immense, thick, nectarous tears streaming down my cheeks. Like oil. Like thick, extra-virgin oil delight. Coming from the truest chamber of me.

At this point, I couldn’t control these pearls of guidance running through me so smoothly - and I wouldn’t stop them. I ended up walking through almost the entire temple complex (it’s one of the biggest in South India) and felt these sacred waters as a companion supporting me through this deeply mystical, slightly scary, yet profoundly powerful and healing experience.

Even though the tears were clearly mine - running through my eyes and shimmering through my shen (the light and glitter behind our eyes) - I couldn’t shake the knowing that some higher, more evolved consciousness had entered me right at the gates of this divine feminine temple. Truly, it was one of the most spiritual experiences of my life.

The sensation in my body was so sensual, supportive, expansive – it felt plant-medicine level. I was experiencing warmth in every cell of my being. Like the spirit of the temple had granted me to experience all layers of myself within these doors. Safely. Completely. Vulnerably.

Now, writing this, I am able to access the feeling again, and I can share with you that these tears held weight. Each drop felt like a pocket of wisdom, like a bubble filled with messages too holy to even speak about.

What is coming through now, too, is that they felt like pure rejuvenation and wisdom infusing at the same time. Think about your favorite oil texture ~ in foods or body care ~ and then add ten times more magic into it. That’s how it felt. Like they were streaming through my body but were sent from a goddess chamber beyond what I can fathom.

Having been in India many times, I have had very majestic and wonderful temple experiences before. I also travel to sacred sites all over the world. But here - I knew so, so clearly - this was more than a temple I visited. It’s a school of sensuality, womanhood, magic, and KNOWING OF SELF.

My oracle self was deeply activated with these tears, and their pearlescent essence was stored deeply within my system. I was so touched by how I was guided to really experience my own Oil Tears in a more aware way. A turning point for me to look at tears, crying, and fluid release in our bodies.

The next morning, I met with one of my teachers, a South Indian temple specialist, and shared this immensely sweet and glorious experience with him. Immediately he said:

“Mona, you experienced Darśan - தரிசனம்.”

The sacred moment of seeing and being seen by the deity.

He explained that many people cry during darśan because they feel a powerful spiritual presence move through them. A recognition. A communion. A moment where the soul suddenly remembers itself in the presence of the divine.

So perhaps these Oil Tears were activated through Bhakti Bhāva - devotional ecstasy, sacred emotional awakening. The kind of spiritual emotion that overwhelms the heart so completely that the body must respond through sensation, tears, trembling, warmth, openness.

And truly… we are rarely taught the different languages of tears.

Some tears grieve. Some release. Some cleanse. Some arrive as confirmation. Some feel ancient. Some feel like messages from chambers of ourselves we have not yet learned how to access consciously.

And some tears… are pure magic.

Oil tears. Sacred nectar moving through the body.

A fluid of heightened sensuality, spiritual contact, remembrance, and inner revelation.

The more I sit with this experience, the more I realize those tears were not random emotions passing through me. They were guiding streams. Living waters carrying intelligence deeper into my system. Almost like the temple itself was teaching me through sensation rather than language.

That single evening became the opening of one of the most transformative weeks of my life.

Every day after, I returned to Ma Shakti in devotion. Morning prayers. Evening darśans. Flowers, incense, oil flames, jasmine in my hair, barefoot temple walks, chants vibrating through ancient stone halls. I entered states of presence, sensuality, softness, and spiritual depth that felt entirely unmatched by anything I had experienced before.

Not performative spirituality. Not escapism. Not fantasy. But a direct encounter with life force itself. With feminine divinity. With devotion. With the mystery alive inside my own body.

And perhaps this is why sacred sites exist at all:

To help us remember what we are beneath the noise. To soften us enough to receive ourselves again. To bring us into deeper contact with truth — not as concept, but as living sensation. To KNOW THYSELF..

Not intellectually. But somatically. Spiritually. Sensually. Honestly.

The be-shen KNOW THYSELF journey was born from these exact kinds of moments - experiences that return us to our own inner temple and reconnect us to the intelligence already living within us.

Not to become someone new - but to remember the sacredness of what has always been there.