I’m going to be completely honest - I get really annoyed when I see posts on Instagram talking about how we should be having sex every day. I don’t know what it is. Maybe the word sex is too charged for me, personally. But even when the definition of sex is broad, or includes solo sex, it feels unrealistic for me to harness my sexual energy every single day, especially when the world is so fucked up. Somedays I just feel like this:
Society can create such a binary around sexuality, either perpetuating hypersexuality (be sexual all the time!) or erotiphobia* (fear sex and sexuality!). I think that the antidote to this binary is centering pleasure because of how complex and substantial it is. Pleasure is a far-reaching creative energy that evokes our senses and asks us to take in more of the world, and therefore, more of our Self. It is more vast and can include the nuances of our feelings and preferences.
I’ve been asking myself these questions recently: what does pleasure look and feel like? How do I pick up pleasure in different contexts? How do I feel it both in my own body and in my relationship with others? What forms does pleasure take? Euphemia Russell talks about committing to daily savoring practices in their book Slow Pleasure. I can get on board with pleasure every day, because pleasure doesn’t need to involve sex, although it certainly can. Pleasure feels like a soft, warm place to land whereas sex can sometimes feel pressurized.
I’ve been tempted (many times) to disassociate from my body amidst this scary, unknown world. But coming back to my body and practicing embodiment has been a source of comfort through it all. I wanted to share a simple practice I do to usher myself back to my pleasure when I feel overwhelmed or in my worrying mind:
Place one hand on your chest. Notice the sensations that come from the connection between these two parts of you. How does your breath remain, or change, when you place this gentle, loving weight on your chest? Play with pressure, noticing what it feels like to push a bit harder against your chest and then release. Move your fingers across your chest, gliding along the underside of the clavicle, noticing the texture(s) of your skin.
Pleasure doesn’t always mean two bodies intertwining or fluids flying. It can be an intimate moment with yourself where you emphasize this body that is yours; this body that is full of sensation; this body that continually expresses a livingness, a potential. Pleasure shows up in many ways, can be summoned in many ways, and has the power to let us live in our bodies over and over again.
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