It’s curious how normal it is to hear people talk of discomfort, aches, and pains: headaches and sore backs, stiff necks and tired feet, but so much more rare for us to share pleasurable sensations. We talk about feeling relaxed or comfortable, but these descriptions are not as visceral as the way we often describe the less pleasant – shooting, stabbing, dull, burning.
On a very basic level perhaps focusing on pain was important to our survival, but the emphasis we place on much of the discomfort we feel is disproportionate to its lasting effect. It could be that noticing unpleasant sensations more keenly has been vital to our survival as a species, but we also have the capacity to become aware of this and train ourselves to notice pleasure as well.
How different would our experiences be if we were tuned into pleasure more? And if sharing pleasurable sensation, in any context, was more common?
To be able to find out requires us to be able to feel pleasure in the first place – often harder than it sounds when we are out of touch with our bodies (unless they’re in pain). Shame especially can be a particularly large obstacle in the way of allowing us to feel and recognise pleasurable sensation.
Another challenge might be overcoming the vulnerability of joy: the fear of acknowledging that something feels great, that we feel great, in case it doesn’t last.
Obstacles worth overcoming, surely. Perhaps we’d be able to enjoy and appreciate our bodies more, and feel less inclined to try and change them. Maybe we wouldn’t crave external things as often to make us feel good. And sex would be all about enjoying how much pleasure we could feel, instead of focusing on a particular goal.
Certainly we’d be able to enjoy all the tingling, vibrating, bubbly, rippling, fizzing, tickly, gooey goodness.