Storyteller
Pleasure comforts the soul
"At the age of 8 I refuse to feel extreme happiness because I feel there will be extreme sadness afterwards, even death . . ."
At the age of 35 I still feel the same, and between those years I was never conscious about how that absurd idea ruled over me until my life came into a plateau. A stage when joy and pain pass by but I can't smile nor cry; when anger no longer boils, when forgiveness is not an issue and when tears are hardly induced. Coldness engulfed every inch of my emotions and being distant is effortless. It's like being on the top of the mountain but you cannot feel the magnanimity of its heights. I could only look down with my hands on my chin, staring blankly at the pool of memories and experiences of years before I reached this age.
Perhaps the constant "punishment and reward" during my childhood encouraged me to do wrong in order to be punished and enjoy the reward subsequently. I was a burden to my mother's young and care free life. Small and big mistakes are punishable by anything handy -- may it be a belt, a stick, a slipper, a step- in, a pot cover, a small plastic chair. Either she'll hit you with it, or throw it at you she doesn't care where it will land.
Dive from the bridge, slide in the soft rock, make sand balls and swim naked with my friends in the river are the best times of my childhood. If I haven't willfully ignored my mother's warning not to go to the river, I have missed a big part of it. One time with too much sun and play I went home all red from heat and fever. Instead of taking care of me she spanked me with the buckle part of the belt… and still I sneaked out and bathe in the river. The pain goes away with just the memory of laughter and splashes of water. My mother also has the habit of taking me into a shopping spree 3 days after the physical hurt, not to console me but to take away her guilt inside. This habit went on until my high school days.
In religion I was taught to avoid materialism. The physical body should experience suffering to enlighten the spirit. I took this to the extreme and once lived for a year with only 2 pants, 6 blouses, 3 pairs of underwear and a pair of shoes. I deprived myself of the comfort and satisfaction of material things.
Unknowingly the thought of sadness after happiness after sadness affected my response towards each encounters. Sometimes I was brave to just surrender to the enticing call of happiness but often times I was a coward. I misunderstood a lot of things sadly no one ever corrected those misconceptions. And I have nothing left but myself to experiment and learn. What I failed to learn is that I deserve to be happy and how I pity myself for that.
And now I am hungry for pleasure. I want to feel absolute revelry, get trance in a dance, get drunk, be naked, be merry, let go, let loose . . . fly if possible. (on the other side I am in control.)
I am not sure if it was by chance or by will that I was in the brink of fulfilling a desire. Yes I was in a trance, in a dance but not drunk. I was ready to let go, to let loose but I thought "oh maybe this is my last night, a death wish, the last day of my human life." Why didn't I have the courage to just surrender and to hell with death! And sadness! I had enough of threats I had enough of negative "nesses". Still I chose the right thing to do, was it the right thing though? How come until this moment I regret to have lost that chance. I am torn between being a good mother and being true to myself. Being a mother is only part of who I am, inside there are many voices trying to scream.
I realized that my body, mind and spirit are one. The pleasure my body enjoys satisfy my mind and console my spirit. My religion teacher was wrong. Punishment and reward are not a good discipline after all. I don't have any choice but to love my mother.
There is nothing wrong to pamper yourself and submit to the pleasure it desires especially in desperate times. To buy yourself a black stiletto, to eat a chocolate with truffle filling, to run away from home for a day or two, to seek the comfort of strangers… There is nothing selfish to it. In fact it gives you hope that there is something good that the outside can offer, it somehow takes your mind off for a little while, and it gives your spirit time to rejuvenate.
On the other hand I have acknowledged that these pleasures are but temporary, that I have to realize that when my body tends to look for something my mind needs accomplishment and my soul needs spiritual nourishment. And I have to work on that. A little pleasure to give a flicker of hope for bigger chances of loving yourself.