Inviting Bliss

I wrote recently about Soft Wanting about allowing desire without gripping it, without turning it into a project or a prophecy.

This feels like the next chapter.

I’m experiencing someone now in a way that feels gentle and intentional.

There’s attraction. There’s curiosity. There’s chemistry that doesn’t feel like it’s trying to outrun itself.

And what’s surprising me most is how regulated it feels.

I’m not collapsing into fantasy, even when I’m daydreaming. I’m not abandoning my discernment just because I feel drawn. I’m not shrinking my power to make room for pleasure.

That’s new.

For so long, desire felt like something that pulled me out of myself. If I wanted, I overextended. If I felt chemistry, I braced for chaos. If I felt pleasure, I assumed I’d have to negotiate my boundaries later.

Now I’m learning that pleasure and power can coexist.

That I can want someone and still stay rooted. That I can move slowly and still feel excitement. That intimacy doesn’t have to be immediate to be real.

There’s something deeply healing about choosing pace. About saying, I like you, without rushing to decide what that has to mean. About letting connection unfold instead of interrogating it.

I’m noticing how my body responds.

How calm doesn’t mean disinterest.

How desire can feel expansive instead of consuming.

This isn’t about possession or projection. It’s all about presence.

I’m inviting bliss, not chasing it.

Letting pleasure be something I allow myself to experience without forfeiting my clarity.

Soft wanting was the beginning. This feels like practice. This feels like embodiment

And for the first time, I don’t feel like I have to choose between feeling good and being whole.