Over the last few months you've heard me say that I live an intentionally expansive, pleasure-filled existence.
I've also openly shared my bad moods, struggles with isolation, and a throbbing and enduring heartbreak that has been with me for the duration of the pandemic.
Can all of this be true at once?
Am I switching one off in order to experience the other?
And the answer is no, not really.
It all goes together. Obviously it helps that I am a pretty intense little lightning bug—willing to feel all the feels...touch the hot stove...swim through the depths. #scorpiomoon
But anybody—especially if you're here—has the ability to experience pleasure and pain simultaneously. The starting point is presence.
Presence is allowing your hand to trace the outline of your sadness, gliding up your chest over your heart, to the throat and settling there noticing the softness of your skin. Maybe you get cozier in the plush blanket you've settled on, or notice the coolness of the window or the wall you're leaning on for support.
You also notice the ebb and flow of thoughts and feelings. Stories you might be telling yourself about how you got here or the little encouragements you whisper internally to keep going.
Maybe you're seeing the poetry, the magic, the alchemy of this moment. The ways in which you will grow from this.
Maybe there is a song that is hitting just right.
[Deep nourishing breath here]
There is a texture to all of these sensations. Internal and external. Spiritual and liminal.
And all you need to do is BE here. Be WITH everything. Knowing that you are creatrix of your own unique experience and all of its equally beautiful parts.
And if you've been a good little reader and made it allllll the way through this caption...perhaps there will be more to come in future posts on pleasure and pain in their more earthly expressions.
Love you dearly, sweet poets.