The Sensuality Of Life

The deep undercurrents that lie within oneself
hold many answers to the questions we ask every day.

The subtle feelings,
the nudges and nods from both within us
and the world we live in,
can become a kind of treasure map to life.

Where did we lose the ability to sense life?
For it to be a pure, sensual experience.
To get lost in the extraordinary unfolding
of what we have right here, right now?

So much of what we seek is in front of us.
And in many cases,
we follow the road maps of others.

What if our experience was meant to be different?

What if, by being disconnected from ourselves,
we lose the very thing
that keeps us within the trueness of who we are?

It is so easy to fall into what is occurring around us,
especially now more than ever.

News.
Social media.
The access to lightning-fast communication.

It creates so much exterior noise.

That noise is magnetic.
It has a seduction about it.
Even subtle imprints,
like the quiet pressure to fit in.

I sat in that noise.
I lost who I truly was.

I fell.

I lost my grasp on identity —
on the essence of who I was.

I woke up one day and thought,
How did I get here?
Who am I?

I didn’t even recognise myself
when I looked in the mirror.

It was as if I wore all of these masks,
and none of them were truly me.

That moment led me to “find myself,”
as so many do.

I searched.
And I searched.

I ditched all the concepts of who I thought I was,
and in doing so,
created a jungle I could no longer see through.

I became transfixed with this idea.

The path I was on had no end.
It was like a revolving door —
the scene changing slightly
every time I walked through.

The pressure began to build.

More stories were told.
More experiences accumulated.

Yet it never felt like I was getting anywhere.

And the funny thing was,
I just kept adding more masks.

One day, everything imploded.

All the stories had had enough.
They were tired.
I was tired.

The same loop could not go on.

For a few days,
it felt as though my being broke in two.

Heartache.
Anxiety.
Sadness —
all rolled into one.

Slowly, layers unravelled.
The masks fell away.
The suits fell with them.

And after it all,
I was left standing.

Numb, in a way.
And in another, strangely euphoric.

But this time,
it wasn’t just on the surface.

It was deeper.
Something within my being.

Something in me knew
that everything was about to change.

That it was time to approach life differently.
That a new way of experiencing the world
was yet to emerge.

Slowly, things began to shift.

Some days,
I could feel anticipation in the air.

Other days,
there was a quiet stillness —
allowing a reordering of me.

Old passions revealed themselves.

A rhythm began to form.

The colours of the world grew more vivid.
Day-to-day experiences carried
a different underlying energy.

Every encounter
held something new.

Life was beginning to reorder itself.

Not in the way I had expected.
Not in the way I had asked for.

It was as if something
with a higher perspective
had laid out the way.

I simply received.
I felt.
I sensed.
I listened
to what was already here.

The human part of me
still wishes some things were different.
That some things hadn’t fallen away.

And yet,
I can see those experiences now
for what they were —
even while feeling that way.

And in that knowing,
I realised something deeper had emerged.

And life
was only just beginning
to be truly lived.

🜂 J.H.