Preparing to write about pleasure tonight began with a small ritual…

I light a few candles and lift my sage bundle. It smells sweet, pungent, ashy. Touching the flame to its leaves, I drop into a deep breath and blow into glowing orange embers, entranced by their dancing light. Smoke swirls up and around my body, bathing me as I move from a feeling arising within. I’m present to the heat, the light, and the smoke transporting the dayworld into the mystical…

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been suggesting that, you find a way, even if for only the briefest of moments, to forget what things are called, and instead see what they are.

Of course, this is easier said than done. It requires that we slow down and gather our attention, directing our presence into the moment. In our fast-paced, distraction-riddled world, this can seem nearly impossible.

Just remember, you can start small…

Chris wrote to you about how her avoidance of discomfort and pain led to disconnection and isolation. She shared about needing to learn to be with all of the sensations in her body, and emotions in her heart, and how that became a doorway into belonging, connection, and deeply nourishing pleasure. While reading her words, I realized that while my family operated in some similar ways – my dad’s mantra was, ‘happiness is a choice’ – the impact on me was different. Rather than trying to move away from pain and discomfort, I came to assume that pain was simply the way life was, and no one could do anything about it. I dismissed the experiences I was having, and chose to be happy – or at least to make it look like I was – and felt so very alone.

With the safeguards I’d put in place, I wasn’t available to the intimacy I longed for, with myself or with others. My threshold for discomfort was practically nonexistent and I became prone to unfair and hurtful outbursts that I didn’t know how to clean up. I enjoyed the things that brought me pleasure - music, friends, sunshine, mountains, orgasms, pot, laughter - but it all felt shallow and not actually satisfying. Finally, I realized that the deep ache of my unexpressed emotions needed my attention if I were to live into my fullness. From then on, life got a lot more interesting…

Our belonging is unquestionable and inexorable. As much as we might try to separate ourselves from the other-than-human world, we are undeniably an intrinsic part of the Earth's ecosystem.

In the last two decades, I have come to understand that fundamental social change seeds and roots within the intimate and often uncharted terrain of our emotional and physical bodies. Terrain that has been devalued, colonized, and commercialized by the dominant culture just as it is often ignored by activists themselves.

Like just about everyone I know, my life has been reoriented in ways I couldn’t have imagined just three months ago. With limited options for moving around, I’ve learned to inhabit my home in new ways, relying on the mobility of my laptop to find new places to work hour by hour, day by day.