Lay Back, Remember Who You Are, and Return Home to Yourself

I lay back down after turning over to see what time it is.

It's too early.

My eyes are too dry, too swollen, too tired to be awake right now.

And here I am.

Awake.

I've been going to bed too late and missing that window for deep sleep.

Instead my body is waking up at least one sleep cycle too few, too early, and I can feel it in the weight of my bones and in the reluctance of my muscles.

I have no chance at falling back to sleep, so I resign to ride the magical wave so close to subconscious unconsciousness.

Something deep within pokes me to remember who I am, to invite the pieces of me that were before this pandemic, before forced distance, before disconnection to awaken and to stir.

It's too too much to be thoughtful or even curious.

Instead I just surrender to my whims.

I scroll to my playlist of Layla Martin's Obliss practices—twelve in total—and hit the sideways triangle.

As I lay back and squiggle to get more comfortable against the still-warm sheets of my own body heat, I exhale deeper.

I relax back.

I tune in to the familiar container, and I let go.

Memories wash over me.

This was all new to me back in 2014 when I'd never experienced climax before.

Now my body remembers and anticipates and is multiorgasmic and guides others into their own pleasure and orgasm.

Remember.

Remember who you are.

My bodymind takes me on a sensational trip back and through time to remind me of where I been and how far I've come.

I feel warmth and openness and tingling and electric and spreading sensations in different locations.

I inhale into them and expand them.

I exhale out from them and sink deeper within.

A piece of me emerges off to the side, surprised.

Coronavirus cases are going up, and pleasure is still here.

I am alive.

There is more than just survival.

There is thriving. There is flourishing. There is feeling. There is being.

I don't have to carry the weight in every moment.

I don't have to live the role non-stop.

I don't have to sink with a spiral.

My sensations call me.

My pleasure reminds me.

My body returns me home...home to myself.

Home within.

I'm thinking of you and wishing for you the same journey.

If you need a guide, I'm here.

Offering you so much love,
Daniela