Sometimes, our lives feel like a push.

Other times, we feel pulled.

And if we’re not paying attention, the demands of the push – things like obligations, achieving, performing, fitting in, acting from scarcity, time constraints – can overwhelm our lives. Meanwhile, the pull – in this case what we’re drawn to or curious about, the tugs from our gut, movements toward pleasure, and what beckons us in quiet listening – can become a distant stranger.

To begin to unpack this concept, it’s important to understand that at The Verdant Collective, our definition of ‘sex’ is much more vast than what you’ve likely been taught. To say that sex is an act of masturbation or sexual intercourse is to sequester it to a manageable and relatively small part of our lives. We might even let ourselves neglect our sexuality to some degree when the thought of it sounds hard, complicated, vulnerable, or dangerous.

I just got back from Italy and things felt different there. Aside from the airport, I didn’t see a single TV, not in any restaurant, not in any room I stayed. And I kept noticing most of the restaurants weren’t playing music over loudspeakers. Instead, we could hear the sounds of a busy kitchen with knives chopping, sauces stirring, and bowls banging; and a sometimes lively, sometimes quiet dining room with the lyrical sounds of many languages converging while forks clinked against plates and wine poured from carafes. It was truly lovely.

Last night, on our evening walk around the neighborhood, my partner and I came across a brand new build that genuinely intrigued us. It was different because rather than the norm around here – which is chopping 1 lot into 2 and building it up 3-4 stories high – it was 1 beautiful home, with thoughtful materials and elevations. We could tell someone who deeply cared about form and function had built it.

Meet Myg, my new friend. She’s always been there, but until recently she was never my friend. Myg is not really nice, in fact she can be downright mean. Usually when she comes around, it’s to yell profanities at me or attack people I love. I used to tell her shut up, go away, you’re not welcome here, but she never listened. In fact, she kept coming around in new and unexpected ways. Sneaky little bugger.