The Sensual Life’s blog is written by founder Monica Day. Like life, it is unpredictable, evolving, occasionally objectionable, and always presenting you with something new to feel, challenge, embrace, reject or simply consider. Visit often.
When I first decided to host, I said it was because my Dad had passed away and I didn’t want my Mom to be alone. But I don’t think that’s it… I think it’s another milestone in what has become my Big Lesson of 2011, which continues to unfold and reveal itself.
If the superstition is true that a terrible dress rehearsal begets a brilliant opening night performance…then tomorrow’s debut performance of “Song of the Sacred Whore” at the Philly Fringe Festival is going to be masterful. While I cling to that possibility, the monkeys chattering in my head have transformed into an angry mob of jilted [...]
I couldn’t bring myself to leave the room when the rest of the family left. Couldn’t leave him sitting alone in the bed. I secretly hoped it would be hours before they might get around to removing him to the morgue. I played Rickie Lee Jones on the little CD Player I had brought in weeks before, when he was first admitted. And I waited. I knew that when I left the hospital for the last time, I would be in the after.
I caught my father lying on his side when I walked in his room the other day, looking towards the window. I saw the line of trees as he saw them. So I pulled up a chair, and I told him about the cherry blossoms I saw over the weekend, about the Japanese Maples that blossomed in my front yard overnight. He has seen seventy-three Springs…but he is missing this one. And so, I share it with him. Chet Baker playing in the background, my hand wrapped around the only spot on his arm free of IV tubes.
It is a sensual moment. It is two embodied humans, sharing intimacy, touching one another, being willing to feel what is there to feel. And yes, it is orgasmic. How could it not be? It is all we have.
Last night, a good friend was sad and grieving…and wanted company. He asked me to tell him jokes. He told me how much my love letter on Valentine’s Day meant to him. And he kept saying, “don’t stop being you.” We texted this way for a while, until we both gave in to sleep. He [...]