Miami and thoughts on pleasure

I’m finding out why French Women Don’t Get Fat and then I’m defecting, but only in my gut.

I’m putting myself through Guiliano’s program beginning with the two-day leek-fest the day we fly back to the north pole, I mean, western Massachusetts and then it’s on to three months of recasting. I’m thinking of it like a big knitting project, ripping out the old loops and casting on a long line of lovely, balanced stitches.

Aside from the fact that the author refers to her 20 pound weight gain while a teen living in America as her weight calamity (I mean, really, compared to those struggling with full-fledged obesity? Isn't that more like a American female rite of passage?) I’m with her all the way on her program which centers around pleasure, eating for pleasure.

There’s that word again: pleasure.

I’ve discovered that I don’t have a very good relationship to pleasure in my life. I’m not pleasure-centric and I think I need to be. I’m not sure how much of it is motherhood, the world of special needs parenting, or simply being a homeschooling SAHM or as the mighty Dooce calls it, a Shit Ass Hole Motherfucker. Not sure. I do know I’m better off in the neighborhood of my slippery little mind when I see everything in my life as about my own growth and becoming and not as a mistake, not as something that’s thrown me off course. In other words, this is my course. So, the way I see it, I’m at this point in my life in order to turn over this particular rock, this pleasure rock and see what skitters around beneath.

Being at home with Fluffy has brought me pleasure. Seeing his gains, watching a smile spread across his face, knowing he feels safe and loved in his home brings me pleasure. As retro and unrealized as this might sound to some, creating a home, a system, a relaxed order in our day to day life brings me pleasure. Stocking the refrigerator and kitchen with colorful fresh healthy food brings me pleasure. Leading Fluffy through the school week with projects and activities that ride a nourishing rhythm brings me pleasure.

What else brings me pleasure?

An overflowing basket of self-care bodywork sessions. I'd like to summon a veritable platoon of robust swedes and set them loose on every square inch of my body: to kneed, massage, shape, stroke, wax, buff, polish, heal, tenderize, energize. Next, fat chunks of time to luxuriate, in the bath, in bed, on the couch with a book. Put me in nature, at the beach, under the blossoming cherry tree, on the craggy mountain top, in a lush meadow with dazzling wild flowers. All the arts inspire me: photography, paintings, plays, movies, dance. And music! Dancing until the sweat sprays off the tip of my nose. Spending time with those I love, I mean the kind of time when I can really visit, attend to the other person, to what they’re saying, to myself, to be there for more than a squeezed in five or ten minute conversation.

How much of my life is spent on those things? Not nearly enough.

I think it's worth noting that I haven't even mentioned sex. Sex! It used to be top of my list of pleasures! I just don't get anywhere near enough of it and not because my man's not game. I need to get back into sex shape, into the practice or habit of it, undergo some sex training. Somebody review the basics for me, you know, to get me started.

And food? Ug. I am in such a rut. I’m buying the same things at the store; I’m eating the same things at home, far too often, standing up or walking around. I’m shoveling it in, trying to fill up, trying to feel satisfied. I’m not savoring the sensations, the flavors. I’m not venturing out into new territory.

This time away has shown me how much of my life has fallen into a rut. Drone drone drone. It doesn’t feel like an improvisation. There isn’t enough uncertainty for me, not enough surprise, not enough adventure. Certainly, not enough pleasure.

I took a long walk down the endless beach this morning. I collected shells, stones, coral, sea sponges, whatever caught my eye. I stopped and made an avatar of myself from the assorted treasures. I picked up each piece of me and blessed it for what it/I had done out of love, out of fear, out of loneliness: my arms holding Fluffy hour after hour, reaching for help, for answers, for guidance; my lungs, unable to breath more steadily, more deeply; my heart clenched then open then breaking then expanding; my head, loud, misunderstanding, running the show, getting on my back, getting on other people’s backs. I tossed each part behind me into the ocean, asking for compassion, inviting in a broader view, inspiration, possibility, happiness, pleasure, balance. After I threw the last piece, a fan-shaped piece of coral that represented all the thoughts fears plans beliefs worries and dreams that pour from of my head, a big wave rushed up and washed away the circle I had drawn around my little altar. Washed it away.

No lines. No ruts. Clean slate.

As I walked back to our beach chairs, back to Dave and Fluffy and the little section of jelly-fish free sand marked off by the red, blue, and yellow buckets, I collected new treasures. Sitting on my towel, I arranged them into a new likeness as Fluffy played and Dave read and the sun shone and the waves rolled and the umbrella flap flapped in the warm wind and a single seagull watched me through his sideways, unblinking eye.

Comments

[Karen DeGroot Carter]

Ditto! A terrific post; no wonder Kristen listed it as one of her week's favorites! K.

[Stacey]

wow- what an amazing moment you described at the beach. i love how you seek and find transformation. it's inspiring.

[Marla]

I have always said that sex is like working on art. The longer you put it off the harder it is to get back into it again. But, if you just do it you then wonder why the heck you are not doing it every day since it feels so good!

[drama mama]

This post was a mini vacation.

I likee the pleasure part; it sounds right to me right now.

Excuse me while I go have a cappuccino from a bowl and a nice sliced pear. I could get into this European sense of self-care.

Big time.
xo

[delilah]

This is beautiful. Nothing like a trip to the beach to cleanse the soul.

[KC'sMommy]

I love the way you write, it brings me so much joy (especially this post)!

I have found that homeschooling K.C. is bringing so much happiness into my life. I just don't know why I didn't do it sooner? He also seems so happy these days!

[Kristina Chew]

Something about being at the water and the beach gets the mind (and the soul...) moving---pleasuring.

[Niksmom]

Ok, the blog gods are punishing me...they keep eating my comments on everyone's posts!

At the risk of repeating myself (should my comment from this afternoon re-appear), I love the image of you releasing the elements of the "old" into the ocean. Cleansing, softening the edges...that's how I think of the ocean's effects on things close to shore.

Sounds like this has been a very good vacation for you...all of you. xoxo

[kristen]

Ah, yes. I was thinking of you today as I was looking for early readers in the library and found "See Pip Point"!!! Small world.

And this post is beautiful. I love the discovery, being on this journey with you...

Enjoy the rest of your vacation.

[Laura]

Hey there! You know you're in my neighborhood now ; ) Or just down the road. Give us a shout if you want to get the kiddos together!
---Laura

[Naomi]

...reading that piece brought me so much pleasure. Thank you!

[Melinda]

I love the way you write.....this was excellent!