Can You Do Soft, Slow, Sensuous Things?
Savoring deep satisfaction is erotic power, the most dangerous, radical, and revolutionary thing a woman can do—because she becomes useless to capitalism.
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Where does soft begin?
With my birthday and Samhain1 approaching, I’ve been reflecting on the importance of shedding, savoring, and celebrating—but how? Mama’s (my) birthday often gets overshadowed—squeezed out. I took Woody for a stroll to the dog beach unmuting my amusing musing rant along the way. He doesn’t mind me getting fired up, he wags and sniffs with gusto.
The lead-up to my twins' recent birthday (their twenty-eighth) hit hard, tangled in the backdrop of a scary debate insulting women’s autonomy. It’s the time of year when memories of their traumatic birth crawl all over me, yanking me into a deep pool of female bloodlines. I wondered if I’d ‘lose my shit’2 on their special day. I didn’t.
My shaking, shedding, and ranting prepared me. I learned that when you censor the body, you censor breath, feeling, healing, pacing—and the ability to slow down all at once.
I sat for a long time in the sand with the ocean roaring in my ears: “You got this. You can do hard things!” I felt raw, baffled, and whipped to the gills. I shouted back,
“I don’t want to do hard things. I want soft—a simple celebration.”
Why does our culture put so much emphasis on doing hard things? The stoutness of heart—emotional fortitude or disconnect to persevere, push ahead—until you feel like you’re crawling through quicksand. Put your big-girl, boss-bitch pants on and suck it up with bulldog determination. Don’t yield to rest—not a wink—even when you break a leg or lose a boob. Endure. Our hustle culture will applaud you for it.
Burnout and exhaustion? They’re not just trending—they fuel our profit-driven medical system.
In simpler times of spiritual bliss and blind faith, I cringed at the F-bomb—it left a sour taste in my mouth. I only used it to emphasize just how fcked something can be. In 2016, Mark Manson’s The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fck became a bestseller and challenged the relentless positivity of self-improvement. Fck swaggered into every book, podcast, conversation, and Nana’s tea martini time. Thank you, Mr. Manson—but Bell Hooks was already there.
Bell Hook reminds us:
“I will not have my life narrowed down.
I will not bow down to somebody else's whim or to someone else's ignorance.”
On that sandy beach, I heard myself yell, ‘Fck me.’ Not once, but profusely, like a relentless mantra. Suddenly—like a grand finale—it emptied and woke something inside me.
“I’m done with doing—fcking hard things.”
The ocean agreed, surging with waves of hard things already done. Seagulls soared, dog tails wagged, and the blazing amber sun spilled gold and tangerine hues across the horizon, shining a slow, graceful dip behind the west cliff boulders, its warmth gently caressing my body.
My body leaned slowly into the sand, soft and limp like seaweed washed ashore. With each breath out, stories and tears fell to the sand. My heart undefended—expanded. My body sank deeper—softer, wider—beneath ache, before exhaustion, beneath longing, before hush and hustle. I heard singing in the sand—it is singing still, now and long before.
I rediscovered unbroken, exquisite beauty—an epic holding, connection—harvesting within without want—a sensuous delightful failing to do nothing. Boulders gone. An intimacy with life—orgasmic erotic power ‘in love’ not as an object and not with an object—a bowing to holy ground, everywhere my feet thread, weaving an evolutionary creative force through the bloodlines of woman’s bodies.
Savoring deep satisfaction is erotic power, the most dangerous, radical, and revolutionary thing a woman can do—because she becomes useless to capitalism.
Can You/I Do Soft, Slow, Sensuous Things?
Doing the soft slow things is a radical act. It means allowing space for vulnerability, quiet reflection, tenderness, and gentle flows of energy. Stopping, quitting, giving over, setting down, and composting what is no longer needed—exercises our capacity to discern the dead and done—from what honors titration, rest, and integration to birth us anew—to cultivate self-love, generosity, and reciprocity.
“Crones are the most dangerous, the most radical, the most revolutionary women in existence. Whether in fairy tales or in consensual reality, the old one goes where she wants to and she acts as she wishes; she lives as she chooses. And this is as it should be. And no one can stop her. Nor ought they try.”
— Clarissa Pinkola Estés, PhD, The Power of the Crone
Can You/I Savor the Harvest of your hard-won labor and live wisely?
With any harvest comes responsibility. If the harvest is minimized as unimportant—without value—and goes untended, it will mold and rot. It will lend itself to ‘power-over’ introjections and projections—and bypass wise power—our essential becoming. We see the impact of this in a predominantly wasteful throw-away culture.
But when we tend to, nurture, and savor the harvest of the season: your writing, your art, your body intelligence, your intuitive connection to nature and moon cycles, vegetables from your garden, a new hobby, or a blooming relationship (with emotional skin in the game), you can savor it in a way that your body, blood, and bones will remember with exquisite soft tenderness. A remembering grows roots to stand soft and decisive each time the hustle culture shouts ‘More. You can do more hard things. You go girl. You got this. You’re about to go viral. Keep going!”
It’s time to pull out your Fck it! sword of discrimination and take a nap. Going slow, leaning in is soft, cozy, fun, and deeply satisfying to our sensations. It derails all hope for a final destination—an arrival and lets you be lusciously you.
“For any kind of magic to happen at menopause, you need rest. Pure, unadulterated rest. Rest alone will rewire so much.”
—Hope and Wurlitzer, Wise Power: Discovering the Liberating Power of Menopause to Awaken Authority, Purpose, and Belonging.
Women’s mysteries and circles remind us to nurture relationships, honor our bodies, and cultivate empathy in a fast-paced, achievement-driven culture. Through softness, we rediscover the beauty of simply being, and in doing so, we create space for deeper healing and joy.3
"When all the old paths
have been concreted over,
the way forward forgotten...
follow the knowing in your bones,
the aching of your heart,
the song-line of your body."
—Siobhan Mac Mahon
Questions for you…
Is there a song in you that needs tending,
A scar that wants mending?
A slow, soft—sensuous thing to Not Be Forgotten?
What have you harvested that’s in the slow cooker and aching to be acknowledged?
What am I setting down, composting, giving over to the Cherishing Mother?
© Prajna O'Hara 2024
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Love,
Prajna O’Hara, The Salty Crone
Samhain, New Cycle, New Moon: The veil between the worlds is porous. A time to honor the ancestors, the harvest & New Year. My colleague and friend
Substack: Liminal Walker Musings wrote an exceptional essay on this topic. If you are new to Samhain—this is a good read. Thank you, Julie.How Not to Lose Your Shit
“If you think you're enlightened, spend a week with your family.” —Ram Dass
How Not to Lose Your Shit: When the X Shows Up Like Uncle Disney for Your Adult Twins Birthday Party.
Your Body is a House of Flowers: Loving the fragrance in your blood, your bones, your womb creates positive changes for future generations. Counting you, that's one more body-loving woman contributing to an environment of body love.
Dragon Water Medicine: Reframing The Medusa Myth. Part One: Phenomenal Woman
@Monique Anderson Thank you so much for sharing this post. I am glad it had meaning for you. with care, Prajna
Thank you Shiela. I guess I could say without the soft and only hard—we’re toast! Enjoy