That good life
Lately I’ve been thinking about what it means to actually live a good life. Not the polished version we’re taught to strive for, but the one that feels real from the inside out. There’s this unspoken pressure to make our choices look balanced, healthy, “responsible.” To wake up early, meditate, journal, eat clean, go to bed at a reasonable hour. And sometimes that really is what my body craves.
But some of the best nights of my life have been just the opposite. Nights where I stayed up long past sunrise - talking, dancing, wandering, doing things that are terrible for my circadian rhythm, to say the least. Something in me feels nourished by these moments in a way that no morning routine can ever touch. There’s a wild part of me that needs space, that comes alive in those liminal hours when the world feels feral and raw and anything is possible. Not to mention the belly laughs and kernels of gold that exist in the stark humor that laps at the doors of exhaustion.
This month has been a vivid reminder of all of this. I’ve moved back-to-back from hosting a 200-person Sex & Psychedelics event, to a three-day experimental arts gathering in Tahoe, to an all-night wedding in a 14th-century abbey outside Paris. It’s been exhilarating, messy, emotional, overstimulating, deeply connective, and absolutely alive. My body is tired. My heart feels full. I feel awake! Alive! …and totally out of balance. I’ve loved every minute of it, but I’m craving stability, structure, and space to recalibrate.
We talk so much about balance, but balance isn’t perfection. Sometimes it looks like overdoing it and the body fighting back with exhaustion or illness. Sometimes it looks like laying low and not going to the next event, even though it sounds incredibly fun and your besties are begging you to come. Sometimes it looks like many months (or years) of celibacy in order to come back into alignment with your own needs. Sometimes it’s listening closely enough to know when your soul needs sleep, and when it needs sunrise. I strive to nourish all of my parts - honoring those that want structure and steadiness while also choosing to exalt in moments of pure ecstasy and shadow.
Living a good life isn’t about getting it right. It’s about staying in relationship with yourself and tending to your needs. You’ve got to let your wildness have its place, but also let your quieter parts rest. We need sweet escape and pleasure just as much as we need devotion, slowness, and focus.
So I raise my proverbial glass to you - my sweet, fellow human! Blessings as we continue to oscillate, experiment, and learn (the hard way) the texture of aliveness, always striving to feel the most us in both structured mornings and unruly nights.