Madame Pleasure has quite a reputation. You all know what I mean. Those endless warnings of the troubles she’ll bring you. The menacing reminders of what might happen. The dire ditch you are sure to find yourself in. Should you give in. Allow yourself to embrace her sweet silhouette. To snuggle up with her. To feel good.
There’s someone who has a worse reputation. It’s Monsieur Change. Poor Monsieur Change.
We all desire him. At some point. But he’s reported to be difficult. Too hard to achieve. Impossible to maintain. Yes ladies there are such things said.
But When Mr Change meets up with Madame pleasure. Well that’s a whole different story. Then things really do heat up. Things start to happen.
Except that at about this point Mr Morality steps in. Always does. Quite uninvited. Still sneaking around the place. Whispering mean little warnings. Going on about sin and shame. Or the endless risk of this or that.
I have a confession to make. I was once a Catholic. It was once upon another time. It took a while but finally I’m recovered. Fully better. One of the benefits is that now I’m able to experience pleasure and not feel guilty. No not even a little bit. Except of course if it makes the pleasure better.
It didn’t happen overnight. The long process started when I a teenager. With an overwhelmed mother. It was with all that caring for us kids. A big catholic brood. Fifteen eventually. But only ten at that point. It was a slog. Not much fun.
I remembering realising that this dilemma we were in had something to do with the unused packet of birth control pills I’d seen in her bedside drawers. I rang the local priest. Suggested that it was his responsibility. That the Catholic Church was unreasonable to expect a single women to do this much work. Asked him to send us a housekeeper. To help us out of the mess they’d got us into. With their doctrines.
Nothing happened except I was in trouble for being rude. But my recovery started then. I now know that the Catholic Church was responsible for a lot of suffering in a lot of lives. But that’s another whole story.
I also know a fair bit about mental health stuff. And the neurochemistry of pleasure. The wiring of reward systems in our brains.
I know our brains like pleasure. They seek it. That there is nothing inherently evil in it. It serves a purpose.
That we are wired for pleasure. We will keep doing things that feel good.
That we get depressed. Stuck. Unmotivated.Unhappy. When these systems are messed with. Or stressed. Or not working well.
That we were feeling creatures first and foremost. Before thought or rational ideas turned up to the party. Were persuaded to join in the naysaying chorus line.
We also like to avoid pain. As much as is possible. Our life might depend on it. Literally. So it makes a lot of sense. Good practical sense.
Cue Paris. Madame Pleasure learnt a lot about what she knows here. It’s a true pleasure seekers paradise. A culture devoted to the joys of life.
All accessed though the senses. Touching. Tasting. Smelling. Seeing. Hearing.
So are you flirting with a little temptation. Are you stuck and not sure how to be unstuck. Are you dreaming of life in a different way.
Well you shouldn’t hesitate. If you need a little change. Surrender. Give in. Let yourself go.
Don’t get caught in the trap of thinking about hard and difficult.
Start with your senses. Explore each of them in any way you are drawn too. Experience pleasure.
Then link that to what you need to do. To the change you are seeking.
And that’s not the only fun bit. Who knows where you’ll end up. What might happen.
What kind of pleasure Mr Change might keep giving to you. Bring into your life.
No guilt necessary.