Earlier this month I turned 41, and I’ve been thinking a lot about what this new year of life needs from me in order to live a more well + delicious life. One that is truly healthy for my body + energy, one that tastes really good to my senses to be within.
Because more than anything, this is the kind of life I want for myself: a well + delicious one.
It is the only type of life I want for myself.
And what I’ve been feeling in my gut is that what my life most wants from me this year to become more well + delicious is a deeper dive into rest and pleasure.
Before my healing journey, I was never too successful at experiencing either. I wasn’t good at getting a lot of rest, and I wasn’t good at getting a lot of pleasure, either. I didn’t even know that both were truly possible, to be honest, nor what they would even look like if they were.
This idea that rest and pleasure are foundations on which we can build our lives, on which we can build our dreams, that they can be our support systems to fall back on in times of success and in times of failure was a revelation to me. The idea that my life can feel good and easy, that it can be immensely delightful, and not also burn out my nervous system. That it can be based on, and grounded in, just feeling good. Wow. A revolution.
If there is one thing that my healing journey has taught me it is this: “That our lives are not supposed to prisons; they are supposed to be sanctuaries.”
That our lives are not supposed to be things that we are trying hard to run away from, but things we are supposed to be find more and more ways to dive deeper into. To find solace in. To get joy, and safety, and wellness from. And in my heart, I know rest and pleasure are big parts of that sanctuary. That they are the very alters in which that sanctuary builds itself around, the ones we are meant to make sacred pilgrimage to and lay our burdens as offerings before, so that we may be deeply blessed.
Rest and pleasure are home.
I am being called to experience them in a deeper way now. Not just to have them in the margins of my life, but to realize that the only place they belong is as the whole page. That I must write the story of my life upon them. That I must write the story of my life with them. They are the page, and the pen.
I learned from my master teachers, AIDS and kidney failure, that pleasure and rest are medicines + needs. Like good food and water, I need them in regular daily doses to be healthy and function at my best.
And the two types of pleasure I’m being called most to right now are writing + sex. I get such delight from them both. I feel so alive when I’m writing. The act of sharing what’s in my heart and mind through writing brings me such a deep amount of joy that it’s hard to describe in words. But the closest I can come to it is: writing makes me feel like I’m feeding my soul something delicious/nutritious. And I also feel that way when I’m having sex. I feel alive, connected, and like I’m feeding my soul something that it enjoys, and helps it grow.
And to be honest, I haven’t been doing enough of either: writing, or sex. And being further honest, I haven’t been doing one of those at all (I’ll leave it to you to figure out which one).
Rest, sex and writing have been calling me deep.
Almost like I’m being asked to drown my whole life in their waters.
So this new year of my being is going to be saturated with them. Going to be guided by them. Going to be taught by them.
I’m looking forward to what I may learn from them. How I heal from them. What I become because of them.
What I already know is that I’ll be happier + healthier.
And that alone is delicious enough.
