- The Vulnerability of Desire by Jamie Ridler on October 17, 2010 in Find Inspiration I’ve been going through an internal transformation lately, clearing awayMessage 1 of 1 , Oct 18, 2010View Source
I’ve been going through an internal transformation lately, clearing away cobwebs of limiting beliefs and opening up space for possibilities, especially around money, lifestyle and desire. The most vulnerable thing I have ever shared on my blog is the dreamboard with the words “Je suis snob.” I am not a snob but it was my way of claiming my desire, my love of beauty and luxury. It was my way of saying, “I will brave being called a snob” in order to simply want what I want. I still find it hard.
It’s scary to share what we really want if we feel we’ll be judged. I’m worried that if I say I love chandeliers, fashion and going to the spa, you’ll think I’m a snob. You’ll lose trust in me, thinking I must not be as down-to-earth as you thought I was. But I’m the same person, even if I like French manicures (someone recently told me they’re afraid of women with French manicures!) And I know you’re the same person if you don’t.
We all have our own versions of this vulnerability, the desires we reign in so we won’t be judged. Maybe you don’t tell people what’s on your iPod because you’ve heard snide remarks about your musical taste. Maybe you teach yoga and have been chastised for eating meat or enjoying a glass of wine. Maybe you’d love to wear sequins but have been told it (and you) are “too much.” Maybe when you’ve dared to want more, people have told you to be grateful for what you have. Maybe you’ve told yourself that. So you keep your desire secret to keep it safe.
Sometimes we really do need to protect our tender desires. It can be tough out there and they may not be ready to brave the cold. But sometimes we can turn the light of that desire down so much that we forget it’s there. This is a tragedy. We lose our loves. We lose ourselves. We get lost and forget who we are. And the world loses our unique compilations of loves: the gorgeousness of country music, wisteria and sushi; the delight of minimalism, Doc Marten’s and Shakespeare. Our wildly unique loves are where our authenticity lives.
So, I turn to Mary Oliver and our much-loved line, “You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” Sometimes this animal walks by a beautiful white restaurant with chandeliers and shiny glasses and feels drawn to sit at the white-robed tables. This little animal looks in a studio window, seeing the spaciousness, the beauty on the walls, and her eyes well with desire. This little animal reaches her hand out to touch a luxurious fabric and wants to climb into the clothes that feel so delicious. This little animal sighs with her whole self when she slips under the heavy layers of maroon blankets when getting a facial at the spa.
Let’s be a part of the “soft animal” movement. Honour the loves in your own heart by allowing them to be. Tend to them. They are precious and uniquely yours. And be tender with the loves of others, even when they are different from your own. Let’s create a safe place for desire.
To hear the sound of the wolf is to experience a singularly moving sensual experience of wilderness. Sound of unreachable quality, seeming weird and inhuman. But not unearthly. For it is of the essence of the creature wolf: of his spirit, his being, his truth. A transcendental song that took form uncounted millennia before time was defined. Something elemental. A living call from the past. A revelation of the very Universe.
A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing. She goes where she will without pretense and arrives at her destination prepared to be herself and only herself.