right range
If you were following me on social media last summer, you likely heard me share about my deep ocean swims. On days when the water was relatively calm, I would meet my friend Trudy at the beach and we would venture far out to the ‘boundary buoy’. We would ride the rise and fall of the swells and come back to shore salty and well worked. It was exhilarating, put me in touch with a sense of wild, and created connection with my friend - all things I i was hungry for in LA.
It was also scary, because it’s California, there are occasional sharks in these waters, and at the formative age of 8 years old I watched Jaws at a friend’s birthday party (80’s child). That movie rests deep enough in my psyche to come to mind every time I’m in the water. Still, I wanted the experience enough to override the fearful feeling those thoughts evoked, and would regularly go out in the deep dark blue.
Fast forward to a recent Somatic Experiencing training, where the instructor invited us to call forth an event that was mildly agitating. Immediately, those swims came to mind. I thought of being out in the water far from the beach. I remembered what it was like to look down and not see what was beneath me. And I felt in my body the tension of pushing forward. As I stayed with it, I sensed a pull on my left side, a desire to turn. Left was the direction back to shore.
“What if you allowed your body to do exactly what it wanted?”, my partner asked. Tears welled up in my eyes. How often had I overrode the desire of my body in order to accommodate the ideas of my mind? “Yes”, my body said. “Yes! Let’s get the hell out of this deep water and back to shore!”
I imagined doing just that - turning left, and stroke by stroke swimming back until I reached more shallow waters. And as I did, sensations of relief flooded through me. I breathed deeply and took it in. My whole body relaxed.
I told a student this story the other day. We were talking about some big desires she has, desires for erotic experiences with a certain kind of uninhibited man. She’s tired of holding back, but every time she goes towards these desires she ends up feeling scared and untrusting. So she was in a lot of conflict.”I want it so badly, but I can’t seem to do it,” she said.
Maybe you’ve been there, desiring something, but feeling frozen at the thought of moving forward, overwhelmed by fear or shame. Or possibly pushing yourself towards the idea of a desire, at the expense of connection to your body or your feelings.
“What would it be like to go at the speed of connection?" I ask my student this question. Myself as well. It can be for you too if it rings.
I call this the practice of right range. Through staying connected - to our body, our thoughts, and our feelings - we sustainably build our capacity to go to new edges of experience. We cultivate our ability to stay fully present with the intensities of feeling and sensation, aware and at choice. If we find ourselves distressed, panicked, frozen or numb, we take it as a call to recalibrate, not to push through (or simply give up). We slowly build trust with ourselves, so we can trust ourselves with others - including our ability to know and express our desires and boundaries.
Playing within our range, is a powerful way to build an enlivened erotic life. We’re not beholden to our fear and shame, neither are we in denial of it. We stretch to our edges, without forcing ourselves over (and then having a bunch of clean up to do on the other side). We expand, without having to leave parts of ourself behind.
This summer, you’ll likely find me swimming closer to shore. Still in the ocean, still connected to its wild beauty, but also deeply connected to my desire to feel safe enough to take in the pleasure of the water.