I'm going to join in on the Self-Discovery Word-by-Word Blogger Series. I found out about it on Being Joy. The word for February is "pleasure."
I think pleasure is a signpost, pointing me toward my callings in life. Sometimes the call is just to be really present in the moment, like the pleasure of walking in the moonlight, or of lying in bed for a few extra minutes and savoring the dreams I just experienced. At other times, it can be more complex, like the pleasure of a challenging art project or sitting down to write an article for my e-zine. Pleasure is the feeling I get when I'm aligned with the things I love, the things that call to my soul.
What are the greatest sources of pleasure in my life? I've grouped them into three categories: my beloveds, the written word, and Mother Nature. My beloveds are my family and friends, including the ones with paws and tails. I'm blessed with a fun and loving community of people. We laugh a lot, play games, create together, and have a wonderful time. The written word, whether I'm reading or writing, is one of my all-time favorite pleasures. I don't think there's a day that goes by when I don't read and write. And Mother Nature...ahhh. The pleasure I get from the natural world ranges from taking walks and hikes to gardening to practicing magick in a sacred circle. I love to be connected with the Earth, the Sun, the Moon and Stars.
That sounds like a whole lot of pleasure! And it's true, I do enjoy my life. Yet like most people, I can also get caught up in stress and mundania, things that suck the pleasure out of daily life. Over the past few years I've been learning to let go of worrying, which is, it seems to me, the opposite of pleasure. Stress leads to a narrow view of life, one where pleasure is delayed and denigrated. It can be challenging to get out of that space and back onto the path. When I'm stuck in that worried mindset, I've learned to look for the little pleasures that help wake me back up: the softness of a cat's fur, the sun peeking through the clouds, the smile of a child. Gradually, I find my way back, looking for those brightly-painted signposts which point the way joyfully to the reasons I've chosen to be here.