The Art of Receiving
This week, I turned 39.
I couldn’t really say exactly when the celebrations began, because over the past month I’ve taken part in magical events (Osstid'Burn, Sapiens), and I facilitated IMMERSION, the annual Ecstatic Temple retreat.
There would be so much to say about this past month—and more—but what stands out most during this birthday week is the abundance I am swimming in.
An abundance of love, care, beauty, people, experiences.
This year, I received more than ever for my birthday—and it makes me wonder:
Did I actually receive "more"? Or has my capacity to receive simply shifted?
And if I did receive more—what made that possible?
For a long time, receiving carried a weight for me—a feeling of owing something, guilt.
I told myself I was too demanding, too complicated, ungrateful.
And… there’s some truth to that.
I’m someone who’s very transparent—so when someone did something for me or gave me a gift I didn’t like, it was deeply uncomfortable to disappoint them with my own disappointment.
So what changed?
The first shift happened when I discovered the Wheel of Consent seven years ago.
That "allowing" is not the same as receiving.
And then came a long journey:
Learning to listen to what I actually wanted.
Learning to communicate desires, needs, and boundaries.
And finally—the piece that was still stuck until recently:
Increasing my tolerance for pleasure.
(read that again)
That alone could be a whole (long) post…
But I realized I had a deep distrust of things that felt good, pleasurable, enjoyable.
Trauma response or family culture (which are often the same thing),
I had learned to flee or sabotage pleasurable experiences as much as uncomfortable ones.
I kept searching for “the solution” and only saw bypass everywhere.
And then something magical happened this winter.
By touching the depths of pain, fear, anger, and grief—
I created space.
I made room
for more gratitude
more joy
more pleasure
more love.
I was able to release the control and contraction around what is good
and let life flow through me.
I stopped being afraid of surrendering to receiving and enjoying life—
because I’m no longer afraid of the pain that might come with loss.
Whether it’s grief, anxiety, or chronic pain—all of which have been part of my life for so long—
I’ve made it through.
I still remember, back in January, deep in a fog of depression, feeling disconnected from my spirituality,
my friend Darya said during a Core Energetics session:
“You need to practice gratitude. Start small. Say thanks for the little things. And build from there.”
So, I started saying thank you to the Goddess.
For the winter sun shining through the trees
For the smell of my morning cacao
For the softness of my bedsheets
For the care of my friends
For the roof over my head
Step by step, I emerged from the tunnel—
through allowing myself to be vulnerable,
reconnecting with the gentle touch and presence of friends,
watching the days grow longer—
until that moment on the plane to Costa Rica
when, for the first time in months,
I felt joy.
For the past two weeks, I’ve been floating in a gentle euphoria.
I could make a long list of everything that’s amazed me—
the gifts, the incredible experiences—
but what truly makes the difference is how I perceive my reality.
There’s still a quiet voice in the background that says, “Are you sure everything’s okay? This is too good to be true.”
But the truth is—most of this was already there.
I just wasn’t able to see it.
Yes, I still check in.
I turn to others for reflection.
I look at the news to see where the world is headed.
I acknowledge my privilege.
And still—consciously, I continue to choose gratitude.
(written in French by a human, translated with the help of ChatGPT)
In June, I WROTE…
About Joy
About Pleasure
IMMERSION - Home. Ensemble.
I READ…
« Darkness is not the absence of light as we’ve been so forced to believe. It is the very dance of light—it is light in rapturous contemplation of herself, in poetic adoration of her own contours and sensuous nuances. And we will never see this except we join her, unless we marvel at her rapid steps, unless we get caught up with her in her festive charade of realness, in her chaotic performance, in her heady spin, in full embrace of her extravagant sweaty waltz—for when we do, we will realize that shadows are merely the spaces she has tenderly left for us to place our feet. (…)
There is no solution to the dark. We are never not broken; we are never not whole. »
- Bayo Akomolafe, https://www.bayoakomolafe.net/post/finding-the-dark-decolonizing-darkness
I LISTENED TO…
