There were satisfying moments at work and I had a good time with the fine people I work with, but today, like most days, I left feeling energetically depleted.
While I was checking email, I heard an intuitive whisper telling me to masturbate. “Frivolous.” I rebutted. I don’t have time for that. But I had time to write you back. I had time to check the boxes off my to-do list, but time to please myself was elusive.
I took a short nap hoping to feel better to no avail. I decided I would save writing for the next day when I was feeling more refreshed and awake. But I do that a lot. When the next day arrives, life takes over and before I know it, it’s been a week since I’ve paid attention to anything creative.
The pressure I place on myself to produce, to perform, to function a certain way was feeling insurmountable. I thought I had no idea what I needed despite hearing it earlier and choosing to ignore it.
I took a shower, wanting the water to wash away the sadness. Despite not wanting to get my hair wet because of the time it would take to dry it, I did so because it felt good. I turned the temperature of the water up a little higher because the sting warmed my bones. It felt exquisitely delightful.
And then it hit me.
In order to function, and show up for myself, I have to not only seek pleasure, but allow myself the fullness of the experience.
Sometimes I don’t know what would feel good, or I get it in my head that I have to do something I normally do to get myself back on track. I often choose to listen to my mind telling me “who has time for that?” when my body wants something my incessant brain chatter perceives is out of the ordinary.
I masturbated and it felt absolutely divine. I believe the intensity of my orgasm was due to the fact that I was listening and paying attention to what my body felt like doing. This isn’t to say that pleasure can only come from sexual attention, but for today it did.
Other days it’s yoga, or taking a walk, looking at beautiful things, or sex with my partner. Sometimes it’s engaging in creative activities, making some kind of delicious meal or dessert. Other times it’s doing nothing at all.
It’s getting still enough to hear that little voice that is always there providing answers that gets tricky at times. I’ve shut her out or given her scraps of attention in favor of other people, which has led to a life lived with a couple of brushes few colors to paint on a too-small canvas.
I want the entire spectrum. I want the whole rainbow and then some with glitter tossed on it. I want to expand and stretch the canvas in which I paint on. I want to color outside the lines and live ecstatically while doing it. I’ve always wanted this and thought I could find it outside of myself. I thought a career would fill me up, a relationship, the means to buy things or to go places. All of that is wonderful, but if I don’t get present with myself and what it is that fulfills me on a deeper level, none of it matters.
I need to do the things that make my heart sing and scrape off the bullshit that says “Who are you to receive all of this?”
I’m finding the other colors, the bigger brushes and jars of glitter one step at a time.
Come with me.