In a book I was reading recently, the protagonist is asked what her word is.
“Everyone has a word that defines them.”
At first I thought my word was beauty, as I have often contemplated my hunger to feast upon beauty and surround myself with it…yet, after further reflection, I’ve decided on something more precise: sensual. The very word itself caresses the mouth as it passes through the lips, full and luxurious.
I think back to spending an entire day on a beach in Spain, the warm ocean breeze washing over my skin as I sip red wine and scoop silky cheese with a baguette–hours of utter indolence. I think of days when no alarm is needed to greet the day, the sensual moment of waking without concerns, the stretch of legs and toes down into the cool corner of the sheets. Sensual the moment the velvet slides over the tongue, whether a complex wine full of the earth or the fresh burst of ceviche full of the sea. Sensual the day when no obligations are met except those that nurture the soul: reading for hours, slowly smoothing lotion over skin after a shower, sipping a cup of coffee and lingering in its aromatic steam. Sensual afternoon playing hooky from work to lay in the grass and soak up the miraculous warm day in February, sun pounding against dark winter clothes. We are blessed with taste, touch, smell, sight and all manner of filling ourselves with the simple pleasures that overflow into a sensual life.